Samurai Shipgirl Sea Stories
by Pyeknu
Summary: Copied from Spacebattles & Sufficient Velocity, these are contributions to the "Things that are no longer allowed involving shipgirls" rule list and other plot bunnies. These show what happened when Canada jumped onto the shipgirl bandwagon. Not to mention when a missing sister of Yamato came from the ice. Also containing crossovers from other series. You have been warned...!
1. When Shipgirls Visit Halifax

**3244\. From the FOSGF (Flag Officer Shipgirl Forces) of the Royal Canadian Navy to all allied Shipgirl Formation Commanders: Please do not permit your shipgirls to deploy to Halifax or Esquimalt just to visit Her Majesty's Canadian Shipgirls Cape Scott or Cape Breton at their Shipgirl Lounges without prior authorization from the this office AND the respective Commanders of the Canadian Fleets (CANCOMLANTFLT/CANCOMPACFLT) in question.**

It was a quiet day in the Atlantic as the small German squadron of flottenmädchen with the small echelon of Japanese kanmusume accompanying them after a long Indian Ocean deployment that spilled into the South Atlantic made their way in a northern vector towards the entrance to Halifax Harbour. While there was no sign of visible damage on any of them, they look worn and tired, running on very low fuel. The lone carrier shipgirl of the group, Graf Zeppelin, did have some faery reconnaissance Bf-109s up in the sky ahead of them; while their Canadian sisters were quite diligent when it came to sweeping their sectors of the oceans clear of the Abyssals close to their primary navy stations, it was just being safe.

"How soon will we make Chebucto Head, Bismarck?" Scharnhorst asked as she tried to keep her eyes open. "I need to stop and get into a nice bath soon or I'm adrift...!"

"We're still another hour away, _meine Freunde_ ," Bismarck replied as she gazed in amusement at the fast battleship that now held her port flank. "Ja, I'm really tired as well..."

"Sempai! Scout plane!" Fubuki called out, pointing up.

Everyone looked up...then gaped on seeing a Hawker Sea Fury in modern Royal Canadian Air Force colours soar over the formation from the direction of Canada's east coast base. Soon enough, the Bf-109 that Zeppelin had put up fell in alongside the Canadian aircraft. The German carrier shipgirl perked as she tapped into the conversation between the two faeries before she called up to the force flag, "Bismarck! Magnificent is wondering what we're doing here; she sent out her plane guard flottenmädchen to intercept us ten nautical miles from Chebucto."

Bismarck grimaced. "Call Magnificent back and tell her we're very heavily down on fuel and supplies and need to get into a port to rest and relax! Apologize to her for not clearing it ahead of time with her commander, but that fight near the Azores...!"

" _Jawohl_!"

* * *

Within a couple of hours, the formation made its way into Halifax Harbour proper, a small division of Canadians - HMC Shipgirls Saguenay, Margaree, Restigouche and Saint Croix - escorting them in. Gazing the bright, cheery-eyed reborn warships who looked about the same human age as Fubuki and her sisters, Bismarck could only smile as the idea of hitting the nearest Tim Hortons as soon as she could strip her gear off at the dockyard rolled through her mind, a touch of drool touching her lips at the idea of getting her bunkers filled up with all sorts of sinful delights at those heaven-sent coffee shops. Why the people back home in Germany hadn't allowed the wonderful Canadian franchise to expand into their country, she wouldn't understand...!

"WHAT?!"

That was Saguenay, who was currently acting as SCOPA (Senior Commanding Officer Present Afloat) for the team that was escorting the Germans and the Japanese to Halifax. "But, sir! Can't you protest this to the mayor?!" the reborn steamer demanded as dark thoughts of firing a flock of Limbo mortar bombs into City Hall flashed through her operations room. "Sir! They just came from a trip that took them around half the...!"

Silence fell as she took in the message from Admiralty House, then she nodded. "Aye-aye, sir. Permission to escort our friends to the Fleet Maintenance Facility?" She blinked, then her black eyes glistened with tears. "Aye-aye, sir! Saguenay, out!"

"What is it?" Bismarck asked.

A blush crossed the raven-haired shipgirl's face; when she had been reborn in her humanoid body, Saguenay had taken very much after the image of the native warrior that formed the centre of her ship's heraldic crest, complete with tanned skin. "On behalf of the Royal Canadian Navy, I humbly and sincerely apologize for the unfortunate news I bring you, Schlachtschiffmädchen Bismarck," she then formally said as she saluted the German capital ship. "Sadly, because of an incident during the last time shipgirls of your type and size came to Halifax, all the Tim Hortons restaurants in town closed down for the week in protest to the visit!" As all the visiting shipgirls cried out in shock, Saguenay bowed her head. "I am truly sorry for this, ma'am!"

Bismarck looked as if she was back in World War Two and Hood had somehow blasted a 15 inch shell into her forward magazine at the Denmark Strait. "But...how on Earth can we enjoy the wonderful teas and coffee that are made there if they're closed...?!"

"What _verdammt egoistisch_ fool ruined it for us?!" Scharnhorst snarled out.

Saguenay moaned. "Who else?"

That made the visitors all groan in turn. "What can we do, Saguenay?" Zeppelin demanded.

"Don't worry about that part, Your Ladyship!" Margaree called out with a cute smile, making the namesake of Germany's pioneer airship developer blush at the use of the courtesy title. "I already called ahead to the dockyard. Scotty's ready to receive you at her lounge!"

That made the other shipgirls blink. "'Lounge'...?"

* * *

With the advent of shipgirls, the massive dock facilities at Canadian Forces Base Halifax had been significantly transformed to better accommodate the influx of corvette and frigate shipgirls that formed the vast bulk of the Royal Canadian Navy these days due to the inability of regular warships when it came to dealing with the Abyssals. The main element of Fleet Maintenance Facility (Atlantic) was the Prince of Wales Building, a huge square structure with 22,000 square metres of space on Provo Wallis Street just downstream from the Angus L. MacDonald Bridge. Once they were undercover, the visiting shipgirls were allowed to strip off their weapons and other external equipment, they being hoisted into repair bays by smiling longshoremen, a mixture of regular Navy personnel, reservists and civilians.

Once they were appearing as human as they had been reborn, the troupe of shipgirls made their way through a curtained door marked **SHIPGIRLS ONLY/FILLES NAVIRE SEULEMENT** in the usual bilingual style of Canadian military bases. Once they were through the door, everyone then gasped as they found themselves in a strangely foggy room that made them blink for a moment. "Um...do we need radar to operate in this...?" Scharnhorst began...

...before a moan that was almost orgasmic in nature escaped the fast battleship. By then, the other visitors save the four Canadians were moaning in delight as their bodies absorbed the wonderful steam that was flowing through their armour to flood all their internal compartments with sheer bliss. " _Lieber Gott_!" Bismarck groaned. "What IS this...?!"

A welcoming chuckle answered her. "Don't worry about that, _meine schöne Schwestern_ ," a voice that had a weird mix of Nova Scotian and British Columbian accents caused the visiting shipgirls to all blink in confusion before they smiled as a matronly twenty-something shipgirl in a white form-fitting sleeveless bodysuit came into their field of vision. On her legs were her mixed pendant number/hull classification code **ARE-101** under the modified ship's crest with Royal Crown that was used to signify FMF(A). Before the visitors could say anything more, the motherly shipgirl then reached over to gently scratch Fubuki's hair. " _Watashi no utsukushii shimai-tachi_ ," she then teased in Japanese, which made Fubuki, Mutsuki and Yūdachi all blush at such close attention. "Welcome to Fleet Maintenance Facility (Atlantic). I'm the host shipgirl of this facility, Her Majesty's Canadian Shipgirl Cape Scott. Call me Scotty; everyone does. Now, it's rare for me to host capital shipgirls like you three..." She gazed on Bismarck, Scharnhorst and Zeppelin in emphasis. "...as we only have Magnificent and Québec permanently based in Halifax, but I can give you girls emergency replenishment in a pinch. Obviously, this is quite the pinch." She then winked, her red-rimmed blue eyes twinkling as she gazed on her normal charges. "So, if I can get you girls to tow our visitors to the refurbishment docks, we'll give them the chance to allow their internal systems to replenish, then get the cooks to prepare some decent food. They all look skinnier than a submarine to me!"

"AYE-AYE, MA'AM!" the Canadian shipgirls all barked out with snappy salutes...

* * *

 **A week later...**

"Much that I am more than grateful for you in helping our girls out when they needed a quick port stop before they returned to Wilhelmshaven, _mein Freud_ , I have to ask this," Admiral Hartmann moaned out as he tried not to break down and weep. " _ **WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD DID YOUR PEOPLE DO TO THEM?!**_ " he then bellowed out to his counterpart in Ottawa.

The Flag Officer Shipgirl Forces in the Royal Canadian Navy, Rear Admiral Francis Drake Harlan, chuckled as he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "I'm SO sorry about this, sir...!"

"I also need to know what's going on!" Admiral Gotō moaned from Yokosuka. All the shipgirl force commanders keying into this worldwide video-conference were currently gaping in shock at their German and Japanese counterparts as they described the current state of some of the best shipgirls currently in commission. "Ever since they got back to Wilhelmshaven, Fubuki, Mutsuki and Yūdachi can't stop singing _Barrett's Privateers_ and _Farewell to Nova Scotia_...and they're doing it _**without any accent**_! Naka's sulking a tsunami now because those three are allowing the videos of their singing those songs to go viral; they've taken more hits than Naka's last idol shipgirl performance did! What happened to them, Harlan-san?!"

"I'd like to know that, too!" Admiral Collingwood demanded from Scapa Flow, that comment echoed from grunts from his counterpart in Norfolk. "Given that the shipgirls of my command frequent Halifax a lot, I need to know this! What the devil are your people doing?!"

RAdm Harlan chuckled. "Well, Scotty and Bretty, as you know, are the reincarnations of HMC Ships _Cape Scott_ and _Cape Breton_ , our Cape-class mobile repair ships from the Cold War..."

"That's right," Gotō trilled out. "Your mystics have been able to bring back the ships launched in the 1950s; you were even able to give some of your River-class frigate girls the 'Prestonian' equipment upgrades. I hear you're aiming now to give your steamer shipgirls the DDH and IRE conversions to their kits as soon as you can bring back Bonaventure."

"Yes, sir," the Canadian affirmed. "Well, to help us maintain all the frigates and corvettes we brought back to help in convoy escort on both coasts, Scotty and Bretty developed this mist form of the repair saltwater we all use for our shipgirls to allow them to rest and recuperate from any damage. Unfortunately, because we didn't get the warning of Bismarck's task force coming in, we didn't air out FMF(A) in time to receive them."

"So?" Gotō pressed.

Harlan sighed. "We found right from the start that the mists is almost as good as any of Washington's cannabis-enhanced cooking, Admiral." Here, he gazed in amusement at his counterpart from Kitsap, home port of the reborn battleship USS _Washington_. "It works wonders for the Flowers because they go through so much rough treatment on the high seas like they do. Once a shipgirl gets out of the mists, it's as if she was newly launched, all equipment to builder's specs!" As the other admirals all gaped as their minds rolled through the possibilities of using such a treatment for their girls, the rear admiral in charge of the RCN's shipgirls added, "At the same time, information gets cross-loaded through the mists into each shipgirl that's exposed to the mists. Now, since it's normally Canadian shipgirls that use them..."

"Oh...!" the other admirals trilled out, many nodding in stunned understanding.

"How long will it take to wear off?" Hartmann asked.

Harlan sighed. "They were in the lounge for two days since the boys at FMF(A) wanted to make sure their gear was in top shape. Give it a month."

That made Hartmann and Gotō moan...

 _ **Fin...For Now!**_


	2. When Shipgirls Visit the Arctic

**3249\. From FOSGF/RCN to all allied Shipgirl Formation Commanders: Please keep in mind that Canadians see the Northwest Passage as internal waters, not an international shipping lane as the Americans and Europeans claim. When your shipgirls wish to transit the Passage even after a battle with the Abyssals, permission should be sought from this office as a simple courtesy.  
3249(A). This is especially true when American shipgirls want to transit the Passage! Cape Scott doesn't want to travel up there to clean up after some drunken shipgirl after New Jersey grounded herself that one time!  
3249(B). You're all lucky the only Royal Canadian Mounted Police shipgirl is such a nice lady.  
3249(C). Not to mention all the Canadian Coast Guard shipgirls!**

"Man, I'm worn down and running on fumes...!" Iowa moaned.

"Indeed, this cold weather doesn't do much even for us!" Bismarck added as she helped support Hood while the formation of battleships made their way out of the summer Arctic towards the M'Clure Strait, the entrance into the Parry Channel that divided the Queen Elizabeth Islands from the rest of the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. "You sure someone called ahead to Halifax to warn Scotty that we're coming in, Kongō?" she asked the Japanese fast battleship.

"Yes! Yes! I did!" Kongō called back as the group swept past the northwest edge of Banks Island, glad to see that the normally ice-clogged channel was now free of those accursed blocks of frozen water that could even vent open their undersides and see them sink in this remote place. "The Lounge will be vented out before we get there so we can relax!"

"I just hope the Tim Hortons franchises don't shut down when we come in!" New Jersey lamented as she blew a lock of hair away from her bridge. "That was cruel...!"

"No pub crawls, ladies!" Hood then bade.

"Aye!/Hai!/Jawohl!" Iowa, Musashi and Tirpitz chanted out together.

" _ **FORMATION! STOP ALL ENGINES!**_ "

All the shipgirls screamed at hearing that thundering voice - which had the same echo drill petty officers in navies the world over perfected to a degree that would earn them Oscars, something that haunted the shipgirls' old crews' dreams even now that they were faeries - then crash-stopped their engines as they scanned around for whoever just yelled at them. "Who called out?!" Kongō asked...before she tensed on sensing a pair of Big Eyes land on her.

"Tut-tut...!" a Canadian accented voice uttered from astern of Hiei, the torrent of disapproval flowing like an oil spill. "Such scandalous clothing! Can't you girls dress DECENTLY?!"

All the American battleships instantly sweated. "Oh, shit...!" Wisconsin moaned.

"Er...care to introduce us, Whisky?" Hood faintly asked.

"That's enough of that, Your Ladyship!"

That made the British battlecruiser/fast battleship blush madly at the use of the courtesy title that would have applied to the wife of her first namesake. Before the other shipgirls could react, a shorter and slender shipgirl passed calmly through the formation, her dual-masted rig quickly identifying her as a much older design in her life as a ship. The battleships then gaped on seeing the sleeved skinsuit the Canadian was wearing, which was red over dark blue with a gold stripe on the outer leg into brown boots. On her left breast, she wore a gold badge composed of the Royal Crown and a bison's head wreathed in maple leaves. On her shoulders were dark blue epaulettes with the crown, pip star and crossed sword-and-baton of a general in any British Commonwealth army (save Canada since they went back to using maple leaves very recently). Seeing that, all the battleships turned very pale as they realized that this particular shipgirl was an active member of Canada's national and federal police force.

Passing between Iowa and Yamato, the new arrival then did a combat turn to face them all before she reached up to put a brown Stenson hat on her forehead, that with the badge of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in the middle of the head. As the battleships all tensed, the new shipgirl then glared intently at them, which made them all brace to attention as if they were facing a very angry drill petty officer at basic training...which would equal what a drill sergeant at "Depot" Division in Regina could unleash. After a moment, the newcomer then coughed politely, covering her mouth with her fist. "Right, then..." she breathed out before she stared at Iowa. "Commander, I thought we went through this the last time you pulled a stunt like this!" she snapped, which made the blonde American battleship wince. "Much that I do understand how your government views the Passage, it is my duty to patrol these waters, even from those silly Abyssals! What happens if you bloody hell RUN AGROUND?! Is that what happened to you, Lieutenant Commander?!" she then asked New Jersey, who winced. "You're lucky Captain Scott was willing to come up here to clean up that mess you made!"

The Americans all bowed repentantly. "Please forgive us, Commissioner Saint Roch!" they chanted together, making all the other battleships gape in shocked awe.

"She's... _ **Saint Roch**_?!" Kongō exclaimed, her eyes wide with awe.

"Indeed I am, Captain!" the Mountie shipgirl then breathed out...

...just as Musashi tensed. "ENEMY!" she screamed out as her guns splayed.

" _ **ENOUGH OF THAT!**_ " Saint Roch bellowed out, nearly causing all the battleships to keel over. "We'll handle this lot the _**proper**_ way!" she declared before looking over her shoulders. "Labrador!" she called out as a shipgirl in a red-and-white skinsuit sailed up. "You're up!"

"Aye-aye, Rochie!" the reborn Coast Guard (and Navy before that) icebreaker called out. "Get this lot into single file! I don't want to help clean another mess Miss Drunken Helmsman here..." - she indicated New Jersey with an annoyed wave - "...makes by running around!"

With that, she sailed out into the Arctic just as a fair-sized battle formation of Abyssals came charging towards the entrance to the Northwest Passage. "Is she bloody mad?!" Hood screamed out. "Canadian Coast Guard shipgirls aren't armed! We have to get out there and...!"

"You're almost ready right now to go adrift, Your Ladyship!" Saint Roch scolded, which made the British shipgirl blush again. "Never you mind! Labrador was gifted something by all the First Nations, the Métis and the Inuit to deal with that miserable lot out there...!"

A near-nuclear burst of energy nearly blinded all the battleships' sensors for a moment, then they turned to see the only being out there was Labrador herself, who was now calmly sailing back towards them, a tall wooden staff fitted with eagle feathers, the Maple Leaf flag and the ensigns of both the Coast Guard and the Mounted Police fluttering from a side jib. "All dealt with!" Labrador cheerfully called out. "Now, you lot, get into single line formation. And YOU...!" she then snarled at New Jersey, who looked ready to leap out of her rig as the Coast Guard shipgirl glared at her. "Stay right behind Rochie! I don't want to explain to Cape Scott why she has to come up here in case you ran aground a SECOND time, alright!"

"Aye-aye, ma'am!" the American battleship snapped off.

"Good!" Saint Roch breathed out. "Now, let's be off to Nanisivik!"

"'Nanisivik'?!" all the battleships then gasped out.

"Of course!" the Mountie shipgirl moaned out. "Looking at some of you, you'll be risking going adrift before you even make Resolute! Don't worry, there's a shipgirl lounge there for you to relax and freshen up before you return to your normal duties!" She then winked. "We even have a Timmies there for those of you who need some caffeine and a decent spot of tea! Let's go!"

All the battleships gaped, then they bolted to attention, giving the Mountie perfect salutes. " _ **AYE-AYE!**_ " they screamed before they fell into single line with New Jersey in the lead...

* * *

 **A week later...**

" _ **HAR-...LAN-...TEI-...TO-...KU...!**_ "

Rear Admiral Harlan jolted on hearing that wailing scream echo through the video-conference line before he looked at the screen...then he winced on seeing the moaning light cruiser gazing at him from Yokosuka. "Miss Naka, what on Earth is the matter with you...?!"

" _ **SHE DID IT AGAIN!**_ " the shipgirl idol star wailed out, jets of tears being fired out of her pilotage windows to shower the ground around. " _ **CAPE SCOTT-SENSEI MADE YAMATO-SAN AND MUSASHI-SAN AND ALL THE OTHER BATTLESHIPS WHO WENT TO THE ARCTIC ALL LEARN LIGHTFOOT-SENSEI'S SONGS WHEN THEY ALL WENT AND RELAXED IN THAT HORRIBLE SHIPGIRL LOUNGE IN HALIFAX...AND THEY'RE NOW POSTING THEM ON YOUTUBE!**_ **I'M** _ **THE IDOL OF ALL THE SHIPGIRLS, NOT THEM...!**_ "

As the poor light cruiser broke down, Harlan moaned before he gazed wearily at his secretary corvette, HMC Shipgirl Sackville. "Sacky, could you please send a message to the Commissioner at RCMP headquarters from me?" he asked after muting the call from Japan. "Ask him if Saint Roch is willing to deploy to Yokosuka so we can calm this selfish idiot down?!"

"I'll pass it on right away, Admiral," the stout corvette promised with a wink...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	3. When Shipgirls Tour the Great Lakes

MUSIC NOTE: _Wreck of the_ Edmund Fitzgerald (1976), written by Gordon Lightfoot

 **3274\. From FOSGF/RCN in Ottawa and DCNO/SG in Washington: Please remember there are over SIX THOUSAND shipwrecks in the Great Lakes. When visiting the ports of the Great Lakes on tours, do NOT do anything that might summon the spirits of those wrecks as shipgirls without authorization from our offices AND the commanders of Canadian Joint Operations Command in Ottawa and United States Northern Command in Colorado Springs. The Royal Canadian Chaplain Service and the chaplain corps of the American armed services do NOT need the extra work!**

"I, Yamato, like the peace of these lakes..."

Hearing that pronouncement from the greatest of Japan's battleships, the smiling American Coast Guard icebreaker serving as her personal "host shipgirl" chuckled. "Aye, they can be peaceful, ma'am," the living spirit of USCGC _Mackinaw_ stated as she crossed her arms. "But as you know after you got a taste of those mists Cape Scott and Cape Breton developed for the Canadians..."

That made Yamato blush right to her bilge tops as she remembered how out of control she had been after even a brief exposure to those soothing mists after a visit to the Royal Canadian Navy/Royal Canadian Mounted Police/Canadian Coast Guard base at Nanisivik on Baffin Island in the wake of a harsh battle against the Abyssals in the Beaufort Sea a month ago. In response to having a group of foreign shipgirls literally get drunk on those mists, Rear Admiral Harlan immediately suggested a Great Lakes tour, the first ever to be carried out by shipgirls in the wake of the start of the Abyssal War. The commanders of the other shipgirls affected by those mists gladly agreed to that, then arranged to have a large show of force to drum up support on both sides of the Great Lakes for the continued prosecution of the war. It certainly helped that Abyssals hadn't been spotted in the Lakes since the way began. Theories as to the "why" were still unproven, ranging from the fact that Lakes Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie and Ontario were freshwater bodies to the fact that the lakes were bordered by the United States of America and the Dominion of Canada, nations that had been at peace since well before the latter became a self-governing polity in 1867.

"True, you are right," Yamato stated as she scanned around with radar. The large division of shipgirls - including carriers from Japan and America, battleships from Japan, America, Britain and Germany, plus escorting destroyers and host corvettes from Canada and America, not to mention Mackinaw - were sailing parallel to the international border in Superior east-southeast of Thunder Bay, heading towards Sault Sainte Marie. "Still, Mackinaw-sensei, please allow us the tranquility of the moment. It is unwise to anger the Kami of Superior even if it is not November..."

The veteran icebreaker chuckled. "Aye, ma'am!"

"These lakes don't look so tough...!"

Shocked gasps escaped all the battleships, then they spun around to redefine the concept of "glare" at Akatsuki, who instantly tried to sink under the waves as her countermeasures picked up all their targeting scanners. "What?! What, Sempai-tachi?! What?! It's just a LAKE!"

A cold chuckle echoed from off to the shaggy purple-haired destroyer's port, which made her spin around to gaze upon the smirking corvette there. "You just jinxed us, you dumb tin can!" Algoma cackled as she glared wrathfully at Akatsuki, who instantly turned pale. "After all, the Witch doesn't _**always**_ have to come out during the gales of November...!"

That made all the Japanese destroyers gulp. "W-w-witch...?!" Ikazuchi stammered.

"There are no witches, nanodesu! There are no witches, nanodesu...!" Inazuma instantly chanted as she drew out Buddhist prayer beads and began to whisper prayers to make the bad Kami go away.

"Well done, idiots!" Kongō snarled out, her voice dripping with scorn before she stared at the four little destroyers. "You just angered the Kami of _**Gitche Gumee**_...!"

All four yelped. "Wh-wh-what is G-g-Gitche G-g-Gumee...?!" Hibiki sputtered out.

"We're sailing on her right now!" one of Algoma's American sister shipgirls, Brisk, snarled as she pointed straight down to the calm waters they were sailing on.

That made all four destroyers scream out in horror as they rapidly looked around. Given the lake's massive dimensions, there was little in the way of land in sight save for the foreboding cliffs of the Canadian shore to the north and east; the American shore to the south was just appearing on the horizon. Watching her younger half-sisters all panic like that, Fubuki sighed. "You guys! Didn't you hear the song that Yamato-sempai, Musashi-sempai and the others learned when they visited Nanisivik?!" she snapped at them. "How dare you be so disrespectful to Superior-sama?! Her strength is so great, even the North Atlantic bows to her!"

" _ **IT'S JUST A LAKE!**_ " Akatsuki screamed out, waving her armaments in wild fright.

Seeing the four react like that, the Flowers that were serving as their host shipgirls could only exchange knowing looks and nasty smirks on seeing that panic attack from the visiting Japanese destroyers. Eyes then locked on Orillia, who nodded in understanding before she reached into her cargo bay to pull out a beautiful six-string guitar. Seeing that made the other Flowers all grin in understanding; when she was normally on Atlantic convoy duties, the shipgirl that had been one of several of their class born at the shipyards in Collingwood on the shores of Georgian Bay would serenade the merchant ships she was escorting with songs from the man born in her namesake town who was often seen as Canada's answer to Bob Dylan...

 _The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down  
Of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee"!  
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead  
When the skies of November turn gloomy._

" _ **N-N-N-NEVER GIVES UP HER DEAD...?!**_ " Hibiki screamed out in horror.

What type of Kami forsaken place was she sailing in...?!

 _With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more  
Than the _Edmund Fitzgerald _weighed empty.  
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed  
When the Gales of November came early..._

Akatsuki turned as white as a sheet as that moaning tone echoed over the lake while Hibiki was holding her umbrella over her foretops to prevent gale force winds from swamping her and both Ikazuchi and Inazuma moaned as they hugged each other tight, making Hiei and Kirishima move to separate them before they joined the over six thousand now spending their eternal rest in the Great Lakes. The other battleships quickly trilled the tune as Orillia carried on...

 _The ship was the pride of the American side,  
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin.  
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most  
With a crew and good captain well seasoned._

"We're WARSHIPS!" Ikazuchi then snapped. "We're tougher than some old freighter!"

Faint nods from her sisters...

 _Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms  
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland.  
And later that night when the ship's bell rang,  
Could it be the North Wind they'd been feelin'?_

The Akatsuki sisters all yelped as they scanned both north and south, turning their meteorological suites on full power to sense the movement of the winds...

 _The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound  
And a wave broke over the railing.  
And ev'ry man knew, as the captain did too,  
'Twas the Witch of November come stealin'!_

"No! No! No! I'm sorry...!" Akatsuki wailed out as Haruna came to comfort her...

 _The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait  
When the Gales of November came slashin'!  
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain  
In the face of a hurricane west wind._

That made the four panicking destroyers scream out as they looked immediately west to see if something was blowing in from the Great Plains to swamp them stern-over-bow...

 _When suppertime came the old cook came on deck  
Sayin', "Fellas, it's too rough t'feed ya."  
At seven PM, it grew dark; it was then he said,  
"Fellas, it's bin good t'know ya!"_

As of now, the four sisters were nearly insensate as they imagined what happened to the crew of that particular freighter on the night of Monday 10 November 1975...

 _The captain wired in, he had water comin' in  
And the good ship and crew was in peril.  
And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight  
Came the wreck of the _Edmund Fitzgerald _!_

Screams of mortal terror escaped the Akatsuki sisters before Yamato's deep voice jumped in, that accompanied by Musashi, Bismarck, Hood and the Iowa sisters...

 _Does any one know where the love of God goes  
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?  
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay  
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er!_

"Whitefish Bay! Whitefish Bay! Flank ahead all engines!" Akatsuki screamed out.

" _ **STAY WHERE YOU ARE, YOU RECKLESS MORONS!**_ " Mackinaw snapped.

 _They might have split up or they might have capsized,  
They may have broke deep and took water  
And all that remains is the faces and the names  
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters!_

That made the four sisters gulp in horror as they instantly did internal damage control drills.

They were not sinking...!

They were not going to be victims of the Witch...!

Yeah, it was summertime, but they weren't taking chances, not HERE of all places...!

Seeing that, Wisconsin could only shake her head before chiming in...

 _Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings  
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.  
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;  
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.  
And farther below, Lake Ontario  
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,  
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know  
With the Gales of November remembered._

That made the four destroyers perk up before Orillia gave them knowing looks as the other Flowers all reached up to draw off their black berets (for the Canadians) and sailor caps (for the Americans). Seeing that, others all drew off their headdress as the final verse was sung...

 _In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,  
in the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.  
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times  
For each man on the _Edmund Fitzgerald _.  
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down  
Of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee".  
"Superior," they said, "Never gives up her dead  
When the gales of November come early!"_

"Damn it, Fitz...I knew you ran aground on the Shoals...!"

Everyone gasped on hearing that grunting Rust Belt accent from ahead of them, then they looked up to see a struggling shipgirl about a nautical mile ahead of the formation. Seeing that, Mackinaw snarled as she put her engines to the limit, breaking ahead of formation as she moved to fall in alongside the other shipgirl. Said girl was a rusty-haired, slender beauty with stormy grey eyes; her clothes were composed of red dungaree trousers and a black-trimmed grey button shirt. Her equipment marked her as a self-unloading laker, with the stack behind her head trimmed in the colours of United States Steel and the boom that was used to load and unload grain and taconite ore from her hull now sticking up into the sky over her head in a mast-like structure, her bow-end pilothouse forming a sort of buckle on her waist. As she tried to make her diesels force her on towards Whitefish Bay as her radar scanned for the larger laker she had been accompanying from Duluth to the Soo decades before, she then blinked on hearing a big fog horn sound off from starboard aft. Turning to look, she then blinked as Mackinaw came up beside her. "Mackinaw! Oh, thank God! You Coasties are out...!"

She then stopped herself as she gazed up and down the beautiful shipgirl sailing beside her now. Like all icebreakers reborn as shipgirls, Mackinaw was a short woman built like a fireplug, with her white superstructure and black-topped gold funnel with the USCG badge on it behind her head of short-cropped silver hair, dark eyes peeking out of a weathered face. Her icebreaker bow had been replicated into the keel boots she wore as a shipgirl; with those, she could still smash her way through the levels of lake ice she had been able to do while as a ship. Her uniform was the skinsuit design the Royal Canadian Navy had adopted for all its shipgirls, though in the rust red-and-white of United States Coast Guard icebreakers, the eagles of a captain on her shoulders. Her old hull classification symbol number **30** was on her trousers, that over the white-and-blue racing stripes always painted on Coast Guard cutters. "What the hell...?!" the reborn laker beside Mackinaw gasped. "How...?"

"You're a shipgirl now, just like me, Andy," Mackinaw stated. "And it's not November of 1975. It's mid-June; you should know the year. Where the hell were you when you woke up here?"

That made Arthur M. Anderson blink before she scratched her head...then blinked as she gazed on her hand. "Docked in Buffalo! But...I thought only warships could be reborn as shipgirls...!"

"This is Superior, remember."

That made the veteran laker wince. "Right...!" She then gasped. " _ **FITZ!**_ "

"What...?!"

"Contact, dead ahead!" Kongō called out from astern of Anderson. "Almost at the entrance of Whitefish Bay! She's returning on my radar the same way Anderson's returning!"

" _ **FITZ!**_ " Anderson screamed out. "Damn it, Mack! You're faster than me! Get out...!"

The laker then yelped as four fast-moving destroyers raced past her and Mackinaw to hurl themselves towards Whitefish Bay and the reborn laker struggling to get there...

* * *

"Gotta...make it...!"

The panting shipgirl with the ice-laden curly strawberry blonde hair and the pale eyes moaned as she tried to push her diesel onward, feeling the water surge into her compartments amidships as she hoped the seas wouldn't swamp her before she got into the lee of Whitefish Bay. "Stupid...got too close to the Shoals...!" she grunted...before blinking. "Huh...?"

The seas were...calm?

What the HELL...?!

Blinking, she straightened herself, then scanned around with Mark One eyeball; her radar got blown down when the gales of November began smashing into her hull just as she had turned east-southeast parallel to the border to get to the Soo. The cliffs of the Canadian Shield cut out by the glaciers of the Ice Age were to her north, the shore of the Upper Peninsula to her south and Whitefish Bay was dead ahead at about thirty nautical miles. Even stranger, the surface of the lake was almost as smooth as glass, not like the raging tempest she had faced when...

When the wave caught her astern, driving her bows right into Superior's bottom...

When the wrenching feeling of her hull being ripped apart by the force of the waves overcame her...

When, with her last breath, she whispered to the spirit of Superior to save her crew...

They deserved to go home to their families for Christmas...

They...

When...

What...

What the HELL...?!

" _ **FITZGERALD-SENSEI!**_ "

"Huh...?" the reborn laker gasped before she looked aft...

...then gaped on seeing four young girls with destroyer-like weapons in some sort of military-like webbing racing towards her on what looked like miniaturized keels of ships on their shoes, bones in their teeth as they came at her; they had to be doing at least thirty knots! "Hey! Slow down, you stupid tin cans!" she bellowed out. "You'll swamp pleasure boats if you move that fast! This isn't the open ocean, you reckless...huh?!" she then gasped.

Wait a minute...

How the hell...?

What...?

"It's alright, Fitzgerald-sensei!" one of the girls - destroyers? - came up to wrap an arm around Edmund Fitzgerald's red dungaree shirt-covered starboard arm, giving her a smile that would knock even Bugs Bunny down! "We'll get you to the bay! You'll make it this time!"

" _ **FITZ!**_ "

That made the reborn laker balk before she looked aft. " _ **ANDY!**_ "

She slowed herself to allow the other laker - girl? - to come alongside, she accompanied by a shorter woman - Was that _Mackinaw_? - with a flock of girls - warships? - moving to catch up...!

But...

How on Earth...?

She then looked down on herself. "I'm a woman...?"

"You're a shipgirl, Továrišč Sensei," the pale-haired girl - destroyer of some type? - said as she pulled up to Fitzgerald's port, her voice a weird mix of Japanese and...was that _**Russian**_?! "The spirit of SS _Edmund Fitzgerald_ brought back in the form of a human woman, as we have been brought back! We were on a tour of the Great Lakes when they sang your song...!"

That made Fitzgerald blink before she remembered someone diving on her wreck some years ago. A mixed team had come down to her pilothouse to cut off her ship's bell, replacing it with one that had the names of her last sailing crew embedded on it. And they played a song...

Wait...wasn't that the Canadian singer who did the song about the railway...?

He actually made a song for _**her**_...?!

But...!

"Wh-why...?" she then sputtered out.

"Továrišč Sensei...?" the pale-haired destroyer to her port urged.

The reborn laker shook her head. "But...Superior _**never**_ gives up her dead...!"

* * *

 **On the Ontario shore of Whitefish Bay, hours later...**

"This is where they found one of your boats, Fitz..."

Shuddering as tears of grief flowed down her cheeks, Fitzgerald shook her head. "No one...?"

"No one," Mackinaw stated as the shipgirls all sat around a campfire, relaxing after they joined up with the reborn laker and helped pull her ashore to give her the explanation of what had happened to her. "The waves were far too big for you to take. You got caught in one big one, had your bow driven into the mud of the lake floor, then the force snapped your keel."

Fitzgerald shuddered as she collapsed on herself. "No one...!"

"They're still alive as long as you live, Sensei..."

That was Akatsuki, who was warmly hugging one of the laker's arms. Seeing the tear-filled eyes of the reborn destroyer as she gazed up on the taller shipgirl, Fitzgerald smiled as she reached up to rub Akatsuki's dark hair playfully, which made the smaller shipgirl blush. By then, Wisconsin had come over. "We called in both to the Pentagon and National Defence Headquarters in Ottawa, not to mention the headquarters of the Coast Guard districts on both sides of the borders, Miss Fitzgerald," the pony-tailed blonde battleship representing the state whose lake ports Fitzgerald had often sailed from in the past calmly reported. "Padres from the Navy Chaplain Corps and the Royal Canadian Chaplain Service are on their way to the Soo to help you recover from this...not to mention prepare you to meet your crew's relatives..."

That made the reborn laker shudder, then she sighed. "Why was I reborn, ma'am? Why was Andy changed?! She was still sailing for U.S. Steel! Don't tell me those Abyssals Miss Akagi and Miss Kaga described to me have got into the Lakes! After all, zebra mussels have got in...!"

"Do not panic about that, Mademoiselle Fitzgerald."

Everyone gasped before they spun to look upon the lake...

...where a regal shipgirl floated a couple metres off shore, her dress matching that of one of the famous voyageurs who had explored North America in centuries past, the rigging behind her head of flowing dark hair indicating she had been a sailing ship in her first life. Seeing her, all the Canadian Flowers gasped in shocked awe. " _ **Le Griffon...!**_ " Port Arthur croaked.

"Who?" Kongō asked.

"The first ship to sail the Lakes, ma'am," Anderson answered.

"And the first shipwreck," Algoma finished.

That made all the Japanese shipgirls gasp in stunned awe before they bowed deeply to the new arrival. "Please forgive us, Griffon-sama, but why was Fitzgerald-sensei...?!" Yamato asked.

An amused titter escaped the reborn two masted sailing ship that had been used by explorer Robert de La Salle in his expedition to find the passage to the Orient through the upper Great Lakes in the late 1670s. "Do not fret about such things, Mademoiselle Yamato," she replied, her voice flecked with the noble lilt of the court of Versailles during the Ancien Régime. "The fresh water and the magic of the noble tribes on both side of les Grands Lacs keep those disgusting creatures free from ravaging the ships of these waters, forcing the brave warrior ships of le Confédération and les États-Unis to bring war to this place..."

"Why was I brought back, ma'am?!" Fitzgerald demanded. "I'm a cargo ship, not a warship! And why was Andy turned into a shipgirl?! She's still an active ship with U.S. Steel...!"

That made le Griffon laugh. "Mademoiselle Fitzgerald, it's quite simple." She then pointed out to a point just beyond Whitefish Bay. "They heard the call when les petites Fleurs were summoned back to duty." She nodded to the American and Canadian corvettes in the crowd of shipgirls around the campfire. "Even if you are of the laquiers des Grands Lacs, you can teach them many things. Including surviving le Sorcière de Novembre...for she has sisters all around the world, non?" With that, she tipped her wide-brimmed felt hat with the eagle feather sticking up from it...then she vanished.

That left a group of gaping shipgirls behind...

* * *

 **The Pentagon, a day later...**

"This is a joke, right?!"

Vice Admiral Donald Williams was DCNO/SG, the Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Shipgirls in the United States Navy. The administrative commander of all shipgirls serving the Union was now hosting his Canadian counterpart, Rear Admiral Francis Harlan, in his office in the "E" ring of the Pentagon. "No joke," the Canadian admiral moaned before he nodded thanks as Sackville handed him a cup of coffee laced with pusser's rum. "I got the flash message as I was travelling down here to meet with you to coordinate the transfer of all info concerning the healing mist tech to Vestal and the other repair shipgirls at Norfolk, San Diego, Kitsap and Pearl Harbour. The _**Fitzgerald**_...!"

"As a girl?" Williams asked.

"Aye, sir. Ditto with Anderson. Not like when Titanic and his brothers came back..."

"Thank God! If we ever got more shipboys...!"

The Canadian officer nodded...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	4. When Shipgirls Watch the Stanley Cup

**3276\. As an addendum to Rule 742, woe be to ANYONE who dares think of stopping Canadian shipgirls and many American shipgirls from watching/attending the Stanley Cup finals (or the Grey Cup, the Super Bowl, the NBA Finals or the World Series)! As HMC Shipgirl Sackville and US Shipgirl Wyoming both warned FOSGF/RCN and DCNO/SG respectively, the riot that would result from that sort of circumstance would stagger even admirers of English football hooliganism!  
3276(A). Be also warned that HMC Shipgirl Terra Nova has just received her IRE (Improved Restigouche) weapons refit thanks to the tireless work of HMC Shipgirl Cape Scott at FMF(A). She is also that truly rare breed of Canadian: She's no sports fan, especially no hockey fan...hard as it is for people to believe! But she does like and respect those who are sports fans and is quite willing to step up to the plate whenever someone wants to crash people's enjoyment in front of the boob tube or at the nearest sports stadium or arena.  
3276(C). By the way, did we tell you that Terra Nova is now apprenticing with HM Shipgirl Vanguard, US Shipgirl South Dakota and US Shipgirl Phoenix? You have been warned!**

"Thanks for doing this for me, Vanguard."

"Oh, posh!" Vanguard said as she reached over to rub the cute little would-be scientific murderball in their midst at the British fast battleship's laboratory near Scapa Flow. "Given that you and your sisters are the first missile-toting destroyers on the high seas, it's heartening to see you wanting to push the RUR-5's capabilities as far as you want!"

"Especially since you came up with those nice ideas about making ASROC preform to limits that not even the RUM-139 could equal on normal ships!" South Dakota proudly declared as Phoenix nodded in glee. It was a rare moment for the shipgirl mad scientists to agree on anything, but seeing as how the cheeky destroyer in their midst had managed to push the simple rocket-boosted torpedo from its nominal range of twelve nautical miles to over quadruple that was a heartening sight indeed. Especially since those two wonderful fleet maintenance shipgirls in Canada that had skunked Dakota, Vanguard and Phoenix with that regenerative mist of theirs had also pitched in to design better "matchbox" launchers to fire the improved ASROCs from.

"Now I gotta test fire them," Terra Nova said. She was slender and pixie-cute short like all of the steamer destroyers from Canada that had been first launched in the 1950s. Her hair was a raven-tinged rust red that reflected her ship's crest colours very well, pale eyes peeking out of a face that appeared weather-beaten given that she was named after a Newfoundland river. Of course, Terra Nova didn't tolerate Newfie jokes at all and had gladly stove the bows in on much larger shipgirls who dared utter such nonsense in her presence. Given how scrappy the seven Restigouche-class shipgirls had become after their IRE refits - yes, Columbia, Saint Croix and Chaudière had got their ASROC launchers, too! - they would no doubt soon earn the reputable title of "cute murderball" normally reserved for the destroyers of Taffy 3!

"Now?! It's the Stanley Cup finals across the pond!" Vanguard noted.

A wry smile crossed the Canadian's face. "It's okay, Vanguard. I'm not a sports fan. Have fun at the World Cup, eh?" she said before she took the box of rockets, then headed out.

Leaving behind three shell-shocked shipgirls. " _NOT A SPORTS FAN?!_ " they eeped together.

Was it even _**possible**_...?

* * *

 **Faslane, a day later...**

"Hey, Missouri!"

Missouri perked on hearing that cheerful voice with its thick Newfoundlander accent - yes, even the fast battleship named after the Show-Me State had been at the receiving end of Terra Nova's wrath whenever she got called a "Newfie" - then she looked over to see the perky Canadian destroyer walk up, a big box in hand. "Oh, hell! What are you planning now, Nova?!"

The present was handed over. "For you, Jersey, Iowa and Wisconsin."

That made the battleship perk, then she took the box in hand. Opening it and looking inside, she then gaped. "Holy shit! You mean you got Dakota, Vanguard and Phoenix to...?!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Terra Nova affirmed. "If we can get production going, we could get everyone fitted with I-ASROC launchers as soon as possible. Even smaller versions for the Rivers, the Flowers, the Castles and the American destroyer escorts like Miss Roberts! That wrapped box is for her, by the way," she helpfully added as she pointed in the box; she knew how much the Iowa sisters doted on the little Butler-class escort that had fought like a battleship at Samar.

Missouri looked as she considered her own weapons outfit. Yeah, she could ship four of these little beasts on her hull; just land four sets of Bofors to make room. Knowing Vanguard and South Dakota, the matchbox launchers would be definitely hardened enough to withstand the shock of her Mark 7 16 inch naval rifles firing at close range. At least given where the ASROCs were placed on an IRE hull, Terra Nova and her sisters wouldn't have to worry about that.

"Why am I smelling a potential bribe here?" she then leered.

Terra Nova flustered. "Ma'am! Well...!" She sighed. "Ma'am, I hereby request permission to load my test weapons with W44s for the trial run as I return to Canada."

That made the taller shipgirl gape. " _ **WHAT?!**_ "

The destroyer cleared her throat. "You do remember that the World Cup is starting, ma'am."

"Yeah! So what?!"

"And that the Stanley Cup finals are now being played back home?"

"Yeah! I...!"

It hit her.

"Oh..."

"There's gonna be someone who's not going to take the Europeans' threat to the Atlantic Empress seriously, ma'am," Terra Nova stated as the local supply shipgirl for Faslane, Fort Rosalie, nodded in grim understanding. "Besides, with the Stanley Cup still undecided...!"

Missouri hummed, then she sighed. "You got some stuff around, Rosie?"

"Bloody damned straight I do, Mo!" the reborn Royal Fleet Auxiliary weapons transport said as she offered her hand. "Here, Nova, let me see what you did with your rocket torpedoes."

Terra Nova grinned. It had something of Johnston's maniac glee, Missouri noted...

* * *

 **Two days later, out in the North Atlantic...**

The Mid-Atlantic Ridge Princess snarled as she surfaced herself along with her escort force. As her submarines and carriers moved to complete their reconnaissance of local seas, she snorted. Did those pesky Europeans or those dirty South Americans believe that someone with the stature of an Abyssal _**Empress**_ of all things would submit to that stupid "cease fire" that had been demanded of her weeks before by the massed fleets of those nations?! Ridiculous...!

Eh?

What was that?!

Scanning towards Britain with sonar and radar, the Princess hissed out in glee on seeing the lone Canadian destroyer - one of their newly-resurrected steamer types by the looks of the little thing! - heading right for their formation. Oh, wonderful! With the North Americans distracted by that ice hockey thing of theirs and the Europeans and South Americans...!

Huh...?

Wait a minute...

If this girl was Canadian...

 _ **...why wasn't she watching the damned STANLEY CUP?!**_

A nearby submarine then sent a flash warning stating that said destroyer had just launched a pack of eight rockets into the air at a range of thirty nautical miles from the Princess. Hearing that, the Abyssal flagship hissed out as she realized her attacker was one of those Restigouche-class destroyers with their 1970s-era upgrades. How DARE those stupid maple fudge-sucking, beer-guzzling hockey lovers DO something that made the surface powers' effort...?

Eh...?

She launched from THIRTY nautical miles out...?!

But...?

The Princess then blinked as the submarine relayed the news that the rockets had dropped torpedoes into the water at about five miles from her position...

...and that the pesky Canadian was now _**turning away**_?!

What in the name of the Fates was making her...?

* * *

Terra Nova started as she felt the explosive double-flash of eight W44s wash over her as they unleashed their ten kiloton ordnance at the same time, then she screamed with laughter!

" _ **INTERRUPT MY FRIENDS' SPORTS NIGHTS OUT, WILL YA?! TAKE THAT!**_ "

* * *

 **Down in Brazil, that moment...**

"Eh?!"

King George V blinked before she looked over. "What is it, Vanny?"

Vanguard blinked before she beamed. "I think I just sensed Nova's experiment is a success!" she declared with a proud smile as she crossed her arms in contentment.

"What experiment?" the other British battleships asked in chorus.

Their young peer's response was drowned out in a mass cheer as England scored...

* * *

 **Meanwhile, up in Portsmouth...**

"Eh?!"

Missouri blinked as she looked over. "What is it, Chief?"

The chief sonar technician who was monitoring the SOSUS lines that criss-crossed the Atlantic basin blinked before he yawned to pop open his eardrums while taking off his headphones; he had been watching over things from his own computer. "Not really sure, ma'am!" the veteran sailor said as he gazed in confusion at the reborn fast battleship. "It sounded to me like a whole slew of nukes just went off all at once! But we don't have any boomers...!"

"Eight W44s going off," Missouri called back.

That made him blinked, then he put the headphones back on. As he concentrated, Missouri turned back to watching Game Six of the Stanley Cup play on the flat-screen television on the bulkhead in this lounge set aside for visiting American and Canadian shipgirls so they could catch local news or sports from home while their hosts were going crazy over the World Cup. As she watched the team she was favouring get into a power play, the sonar tech then looked over. "You called it right, ma'am!" he called out not too loudly so that the battleship wouldn't be distracted too much from the game. "Eight W44 nuclear depth bombs going off right over the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. By the sounds of it, whoever fired them off just nailed the Mid-Atlantic Princess and her whole fleet!" As Missouri gasped in shock, he shook his head. "I'm detecting at least fifty Abyssals all heading for the bottom right now, ma'am! Fuck! Who did that?!"

Missouri blinked before she hummed as she wondered what to do now. Nailing an Abyssal Princess would knock down the Atlantic Empress' forces harassing trade across the "pond" by a factor of at least a third...which would definitely give shipgirls on both sides enough time to rearm with the I-ASROCs that Terra Nova just tested now, then go to town on everyone else!

Thinking of that, she then smiled as she turned back to the game.

The little Canadian murderball would want her to enjoy herself and watch the damned game!

 _We're so lucky to have someone like her...!_

* * *

 **Five weeks later, in Ottawa...**

"Go right on in, Missouri. He's waiting for you," Sackville advised with an amused smile.

"Thanks, Sacky!" Missouri called out to the stout corvette before she stopped at the threshold of Rear Admiral Harlan's office. "Battleship Missouri, BB-63, reporting as ordered, sir!"

"Come in, Missouri," Admiral Harlan said with a grimace on his face that was half-amused and half-horrified. Much to the battleship's surprise, he was hosting a small conference of both senior shipgirls and their commanding officers in his office and not just over a video-conference line. Among them were Admirals Cunningham and Hartmann, accompanied by a beaming Vanguard and a chuckling Bismarck. Also there was Missouri's top boss, Admiral Williams, accompanied by Wyoming, the old battleship that served as his chief aide.

And there was a smirking Terra Nova alongside a very upset Cape Scott.

"Um, is there something wrong?" Missouri then asked.

"We're not sure, Missouri," Cunningham stated. "Given that you somehow conned Fort Rosalie to release eight surplus W44 nuclear depth bombs to Terra Nova there, it could be seen as a massive infraction of regulations concerning weapons of mass destruction even if she is now equipped by virtue of her new rocket launching system to make use of such beastly things..."

"To say anything of the radiation danger!" Cape Scott snapped.

"I DID sail into the storm that was nearby to wash down, Scotty!" Terra Nova protested.

"That's enough, you!" Harlan called out as he fired the grinning destroyer an annoyed yet amused look. "Now, given that Nova here was able to not only sink the Mid-Atlantic Ridge Princess but her ENTIRE combat fleet with said bombs, it's been decided by the Governor-in-Council, the Crown and your own National Command Authority, Miss Missouri, that this incident will be forgiven...but NOT forgotten!" He then winked. "All we want to know is 'why'!"

Eyes locked on Terra Nova, who shrugged. "It was Game Six of the Stanley Cup and the first game of the World Cup down in Brazil, Admiral," she stated, which made Bismarck gasp in shock and Vanguard beam in delight while the normal human officers all blinked. "It was the perfect time to attack, no different than when Admiral Yamamoto launched Plan Z to hit Pearl on a Sunday back in '41! Besides, with all the shipgirls glued to television screens or watching the games live-time, how soon would they have reacted if that creep attacked?!"

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

" _ **YOU BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL!**_ "

That was a bawling Bismarck, who was now swamping the struggling destroyer in her arms as she thrust Terra Nova's bridge right into her considerable bilge tanks. " _ **SACRIFICING YOUR CHANCE TO WATCH THE STANLEY CUP ALL TO LET US WATCH THE WORLD CUP!**_ " the German battleship wailed as she showered everyone else with her tears. " _ **YOU SWEET GIRL! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**_ "

As the admirals all shook their heads and Cape Scott threw up her arms in frustration, Vanguard and Missouri exchanged knowing looks, then the British battleship flashed her Morse lamp.

[You going to tell them, Mo?]

[Not in a million years, Vanny!]

 _ **Fin...!**_


	5. When Shipgirls Give Gifts to Friends

**3287\. Terra Nova, would you PLEASE stop playing around with the repair mists at FMF(A)/FMF(P)! The dockyard personnel in Yokosuka and Pearl can't handle what you did to DESDIV 6, Taffy 3 and the Kongō sisters!  
3287(A). No, no other shipgirl will bother Terra Nova when it comes to 'Improved' upgrades to their equipment and weapons!  
3287(B). And no, you can't run to the other shipgirl scientists to bother them, too!**

"Hey, girls!"

All the veterans of Taffy 3 - escort carrier shipgirls Saint Lo, White Plains, Kalinin Bay, Kitkun Bay and Gambier Bay; destroyers Hoel, Heermann and Johnston; and destroyer escorts Samuel B. Roberts, Raymond, John C. Butler and Dennis - perked on hearing that cheerful call from behind them as they were heading to their guest quarters from the mess hall to prepare for a night of remembrance for their crews who died at Samar, then turned to see a madly-grinning ASROC augmented Canadian destroyer escort run up. "Hey, Nova!" Hoel called out with a wave and with a respectful tone; the adopted Ohioan once got her bow stove in when she made the mistake in calling the scrappy Canadian steamer a "Newfie". "What'cha doing here in Yokosuka?"

A low chuckle escaped Terra Nova as she wrapped her arms around Hoel's and Johnston's necks. "Lucky for you guys that my sisters and I were called over from the Atlantic to help that last convoy get to Japan!" she said with a grin. "I brought presents for you all!"

That made everyone perk. "What presents?" Saint Lo asked.

The Canadian winked, then looked over. "Rusty!"

Everyone turned as Restigouche and Gatineau came up to join them. "Hey, guys!" the name-ship of her class hailed as she reached into her naval combat dress jacket - which was always worn ashore to protect a Canadian shipgirl's modesty given that they always wore those form-fitting skinsuits of theirs - to pull out a rolled sheet of parchment, opening it dramatically as she was the town crier about to make a pronouncement from the lord mayor. " _ **ATTENTION TO ORDERS!**_ " she bellowed out as her foghorn blared, which made all the shipgirls around them snap to attention. In a flash, Kootenay and Chaudière were at the side of their sisters. Noting that, Restigouche then blinked before she growled. "Koots! Where are Lumby and Croix?!"

"Flashback, Boss!" the adopted British Columbian warned as she gave her sister a knowing look.

"Hey, Rusty!"

Everyone turned to see Kongō and her sisters approach them, with Hiei and Kirishima gently escorting two shivering girls who were clearly sisters of Terra Nova and her kin, though both were quite a sickly grey now. "What's wrong with these two?" the British-born fast battleship asked as she waved to Saint Croix and Columbia, who were trying not to stare in mortal terror at the nearby dockyard, their bodies quaking as if they were going flank speed ahead.

Restigouche cleared her throat. "Dockyard flashback, ma'am."

"'Dockyard flashback'?!" the members of Taffy 3 and the Kongō sisters asked in sync.

"When they got paid off and made static training units for the Canadian Forces Fleet Schools, their propellers got cut off so they could still run their engines...but couldn't move at all without being towed," Gatineau explained in her lovely accented English, which made all the shipgirls there gasp in horror at such a ghastly fate. "We have to allow them to dock in certain places in Halifax for Saint Croix and Esquimalt for Columbia so they don't have the flashbacks!"

"That's horrible!" Kirishima croaked; to a fast battleship, speed was life...and to have one's own PROPELLERS cut out from them was worse than having no engines at all!

"Restigouche-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan...!"

Restigouche looked over to see the members of DESDIV 6 come up to join them, with Fubuki and her two closest friends in the new skinsuits they had been issued after their first visit to Halifax and getting the chance to experience the healing mists created by Cape Scott for use in her shipgirl lounge. "Ah, there you guys are! Is everything all set up inside the refurbishment docks?" she asked.

"Poi!" Yūdachi affirmed with a nod.

"Good! _**ATTENTION TO ORDERS!**_ " the tomboyish destroyer with the blue-flecked blonde hair then barked out as she gazed on the parchment in her hands, making everyone brace to attention as they awaited Restigouche's pronouncement. "On behalf of myself and my sisters in CANDESRON TWO, I accept the use of the appellation 'murderball' as applied to all of us by the veterans of United States Navy Task Unit 77.4.3, call sign 'Taffy 3', to describe us in response to my sister Terra Nova's actions when she tested the new I-ASROC launcher systems two months ago!" As all the shipgirls cheered that announcement, the adopted native of Québec and New Brunswick - due to her namesake river forming part of the border between the two provinces - called out, "In response to such a gift from our wonderful American cousins, my sister Terra Nova hereby invites the veterans of Unit 77.4.3 to try out what she has informally designated the 'IFL', 'IBU' and 'ICA' equipment and weapons upgrades at the temporary refurbishment docks provisioned by Fleet Maintenance Facility (Pacific) currently at the Yokosuka Naval District!"

That made all of Taffy 3 gape. "'Improved Fletcher'...?" Heermann gasped.

"'Improved Butler'...?" Samuel B. Roberts breathed out.

"'Improved Casablanca'...?" Saint Lo wondered.

"Way better than those stupid FRAM upgrades the Gearings got, including the SQR-19(V) for you three little murderballs!" Terra Nova hissed to the destroyers, making them all gasp at the possibilities they had just been handed, their lips then drooling in anticipatory delight. "As for you little wolverines, you'll get automatically-loading guns, Sea-Whiz and Sea Sparrows!" she then hissed to Samuel B. Roberts and her sisters. As they all croaked in disbelief at such a show of largess from their Canadian friend, Terra Nova smirked at the escort carriers. "Sea King and Huey Cobra helicopters, plus Sea-Whiz and evolved Sea Sparrows for missiles...?"

" _ **SOLD!**_ " the Americans screamed out in unison as congratulations balloons burst all over them.

"Not finished!" Restigouche called out, which made everyone stare once more at her. With a clearing of the throat, she then barked out, " _ **ATTENTION TO ORDERS!**_ On behalf of myself and my sisters in CANDESRON TWO, I hereby extend the invitation of my sister Terra Nova to the members of the Japanese Maritime Self-Defence Force's Destroyer Division Six, along with His Imperial Majesty's Shipgirl Kongō, to attend the temporary refurbishment docks provisioned by Fleet Maintenance Facility (Pacific) currently at the Yokosuka Naval District to experience what my sister Terra Nova informally designates the 'IFU', 'IMU', 'ISH' and 'IKO' equipment and weapons upgrades there. As a matter of common courtesy, His Imperial Majesty's Shipgirls Hiei, Haruna and Kirishima are also invited to experience the 'IKO' equipment upgrades...!"

" _ **XOROŠÓ!**_ " Hibiki screamed out.

" _ **BURNING LOVE!**_ " Kongō howled in delight.

Everyone else barely could get out of the way of the screaming shipgirls as they scrambled to the repair docks, a huge cloud of dust marking their wakes...

* * *

 **Two weeks later...**

"Oh, man...!" New Jersey moaned.

Iowa perked. "What's the problem, Jersey?"

" _ **IT'S TOO QUIET!**_ " the namesake ship of the Garden State howled.

A chorus of hissing noises from the surrounding destroyers made New Jersey balk as the task force sailed across the North Pacific towards Japan, screening a convoy of merchant ships and oil tankers to deliver necessary supplies to the island nation. They were just passing the International Dateline, which put them weather deck-deep in Abyssal territory. Given how much the little murderballs of Taffy 3 were busy concentrating on listening for submarines through their new towed array sonars – _Did Annapolis and Nipigon come back with their CANTASS refits? How fast could Scotty and Bretty help everyone else get passive towed arrays?!_ New Jersey wondered - and scanning the surface for approaching contacts while the Kongō sisters were scanning the sky, the American battleship had to wonder what the heck happened in Yokosuka when she had been visiting Sasebo.

Fortunately for her sanity, Heermann smirked as she placed a fingertip on her lips. "Be vewy, vewy quiet, Miss Jewsey," she hissed in a passable Elmer Fudd accent. "We'we hunting Abyssals! Don't you know it's Abyssal Season? Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh...!"

That made the battleship moan. "What happened to you guys?!" she hissed out. "You're all acting like you just OD'd on Looney Tunes cartoons and the Quaky Quartet are all on...!"

"Wait...!"

That was Fubuki. "What is it, Fubuki?!" Saint Lo demanded.

"Enemy submarines, division's worth, bearing 192 true, distance sixty-six nautical, Sempai...!"

"Carriers! Get the Sea Kings up!" Haruna barked. "Prepare for anti-submarine action...!"

"' _ **SEA KINGS?!**_ '" Iowa and New Jersey yelped...

...before they watched as the carriers of Taffy 3 all aimed their M1 Garand rifles to the southern sky before firing a half-dozen times. The bullets leapt out...then transformed into roaring anti-submarine helicopters in Vietnam War-era U.S. Navy colours, faerie pilots directing the buzzing little machines off towards where Fubuki had detected the approaching Abyssal submarine force. "What the HECK...?!" Iowa gasped. "I heard they brought Annapolis and the Trawler Mauler back as DDHs, but when the heck did you loons go to Esquimalt?!"

White Plains chuckled as she snapped a new clip of bullets into her Garand. "Actually, Esquimalt rather came to Yokosuka courtesy of Terra Nova!"

"Terra Nova...?"

"Wait! Incoming air wave! We got carriers nearby!" Hiei screamed out.

"How...?!" New Jersey demanded.

The fast battleship - who had been running at speeds which had defied her normal builder's specifications - smirked as she pointed to her new neck choker, which had four hexagonal pads on them at equidistant angles to her fore-and-aft line. Seeing those, the American battleships gaped. "You have _**AEGIS**_?!" Iowa screamed out. "Who the hell gave you girls...?!"

"Putting up the Cobras!" Saint Lo announced.

"'COBRAS'?!"

The carriers all aimed their rifles to the sky, then fired, creating a hornet's nest worth of attack helicopters with what Iowa and New Jersey quickly detected were Sea Sparrow air-to-air missiles. " _ **BURNING LOVE!**_ " Kongō screamed out. "Firing Standard Type 3 mod missiles!"

"HAI!" her sisters chanted as one.

A whole storm of missiles leapt out of Mark 41 VLS launchers from the four fast battleships and raced south, leaving behind a pair of gaping American battleships. "How the hell are you guys shipping STANDARDS?!" New Jersey bellowed. "You'd have to cut through the deck armour...!"

Kirishima smirked. "Terra Nova-chan told us our shipping the old 41st Year Type 15 centimetre guns were useless since they were not dual purpose and they were in casemates. We landed them and had two 45-cell Mark 41 systems fitted to both sides of our aft funnels; that matches the number of cells Kongō-onēsama's and my modern namesake had!" She giggled. "She even did it in such a way that it was fully protected by our deck and belt armour! Wasn't she sweet?"

"Even if our modern namesakes were DDHs, we wanted to match our sisters!" Hiei added.

That made Iowa and New Jersey gape...before they gasped as massive aerial explosions turned their attention south. "Alright!" Gambier Bay screamed. "The San-shiki mods to the Standards took out most of the approaching enemy aircraft! Our Cobras are dealing with the rest!"

"Picking up break-up noises!" Johnston called out. "The Sea Kings are deep-sixing those subs!"

"Wait!" Yūdachi snapped. "I got bigger screws in the water!"

"Oh, damn!" Kongō hissed. "We got battleships!"

"Please tell me you got Harpoons!" Iowa snapped.

"What do you think, Yankee?!"

"Hit 'em with it, ya dumb expat!"

"HAI! _**BURNING LOVE!**_ "

And with that, another storm of missiles raced south. "Hey, Jersey!" Iowa then hissed.

"What?!" the other American battleship asked back.

"We get that little brainy murderball over in Halifax to whip up an 'Improved Iowa' upgrade before we pipe this up to the brass in the Pentagon! Sounds cool?"

New Jersey smirked. _That_ was a no brainer!

 _ **Fin...!**_


	6. When Shipgirls Are Born in Cornwallis

**_MUSICAL NOTES:_** _Farewell to Nova Scotia_ is a traditional song whose authorship is unknown. _Danger Zone_ (1986), written by Giorgio Moroder and Tom Whitlock

 ** _NOTE:_** _The first three rules in this round are courtesy of my fellow fanfic writing veteran Mike Koos, put in with his permission..._

 **3288\. Iowa is expressly forbidden from inviting shipgirls to Bowling Night whose past-selves were sailing warships such as Constitution and Victory. It has been discovered that bowling balls trigger bad bouts of PTSD among such shipgirls, especially if they were veterans of large-scale naval battles such as Trafalgar. Santísima Trinidad almost destroyed the San Diego base alley with a full broadside when she saw all those rolling balls!  
3288(A). Hell! That order is extended to ALL shipgirls!**

 **3289\. No! Shipgirls are NOT zombies! Whoever is spreading this rumor, please stop; you're scaring the local children!**

 **3290\. And definitely no! Being bitten by a shipgirl will not transform you into a shipgirl! You may lose that part of your body, however.**  
 **3291(A). _Poi...?_** **\- Yūdachi sounding ominous  
3291(B). Yūdachi! Stop that!**

And...  
 **  
3292\. From FOSGF/RCN in Ottawa to all shipgirls: Please don't call HMC Shipgirl Nipigon the "Trawler Mauler" because of that stupid incident back in 1985 concerning the fishing trawler** ** _Lady Majorie_** **off the coast of Nova Scotia! It's no different than people calling Terra Nova "Newfie"! Nipigon's just come back to us and we want to ease her back into operations; her feelings are sensitive about that particular incident and her captain at the time was cleared by the Canadian Coast Guard!  
3292(A). By the way, folks, Nipigon is now taking lessons from Terra Nova! We already have one would-be mad scientist in the Royal Canadian Navy! We don't need TWO!  
3292(B). Of course, if by some way the ****_Lady Majorie_** **resurrects as an Abyssal, please contact CANCOMDESRON FIVE in Halifax so that Nipigon can be told. SOMEHOW, when she and her sistership Annapolis came back, they were fitted with Evolved Sea Sparrow VLS missile launchers amidships flanking their hangars and a Bofors 57 mm gun forward in lieu of their old 3"/50 twin mounts atop bringing CANTASS into play. Cape Breton and Cape Scott are STILL trying to figure out what's going on with the modified repair mists they developed for the summoning chamber at CFB Cornwallis!**

* * *

 **3293\. Shimakaze, you can't challenge HMC Shipgirl Bras d'Or to speed races! You're a destroyer. She's a patrol hydrofoil designed to be ultra-fast. Deal with it!**

 **Canadian Forces Base Cornwallis, Nova Scotia...**

"So this will most likely be one of our last summonings."

Eyes locked on Cape Scott, the other shipgirls gaping in shock. "Whoa! What's that shit, Scotty?!" Wisconsin immediately demanded. "You still have the modern Tribals and the Halifax-class frigates, plus the Kingston-class ships to pull through...!"

"Much that I appreciate what you're trying to say, Wisconsin, it's not necessary," the fleet maintenance shipgirl said with a twinkle in her eye. Seeing that, the American battleship instantly calmed down; if there was any shipgirl worthy of the title "momboat", the two Canadian Cape-class mobile repair ships were them. "This has been investigated by Navy Headquarters ever since Sackville became the first of us to be summoned. You remember what her weapons outfit was like when she emerged from this chamber, don't you?"

Wisconsin nodded. "Yeah! All the other Flowers were totally jealous of her! New diesel engine to make her go way fast for a trawler hull, rapid-fire single 3"/50 instead of that old four inch gun she had, a Limbo mortar in lieu of depth charges and hedgehogs and one heck of a good sonar and radar suite! How the hell did that happen to her, Scotty?!"

"In her case and in the case of the other Flowers and later the River class girls, it was because the summoning was done slightly differently in comparison to how all of you were brought back as shipgirls," Cape Scott stated as the various native shamans moved to prepare the special runic clusters necessary to call forth a ship's soul to take up physical form yet again. "All the wrecked frigates and destroyers at Halifax and Esquimalt had metal taken out of them to help prepare this chamber. While they didn't develop the 'souls' that we did which allowed us to become shipgirls, they were 'sentient' enough to feel the frustration we felt when we learned what the Abyssals had done." As the others in the room nodded, the Atlantic Fleet's spiritual momboat added, "That flooded the chamber just as Sackville's living spirit was drawn in to assume the quasi-organic flesh we have. Once her memories of escort duties during the war came back to her, she decided she wasn't going to be 'weak' again."

The others nodded. "You are all samurai, Scott-sensei," Akagi noted as Kaga nodded in agreement. A visit to the reactivated training base on the south shore of the Annapolis Basin across from New Brunswick was a favoured port of call to foreign shipgirls. Thanks to Canada's vast wealth of natural resources in many categories, they had enough to support all their own shipgirls in both the Navy, the Coast Guard - not to mention Saint Roch up in the Arctic - but throw out the welcome mat for foreign shipgirls to rest and replenish themselves before heading out to prosecute the war in tip-top shape. With the recent development of the refurbishing mists that Cape Scott and her sister Cape Breton had introduced at the Fleet Maintenance Facilities in both Halifax and Esquimalt, shipgirl forces were starting to gain the upper hands in both the northwest Atlantic and the northeast Pacific, not to mention the Arctic.

"You honour us with that title, Akagi-san," Cape Scott noted with a polite smile and a bow of her head. "Now, Elder, how soon can we summon our still-sleeping sister?"

The Mi'kmaq shaman nodded. "It is time, good lady," he said with a smile.

"Very well, then! Power up the systems! Lieutenant, if you may...?"

"Aye, ma'am!" the director of the Stadacona Band of the Royal Canadian Navy said before he turned to face his musicians, raising his baton.

Instantly, a war drum began to beat as the assembled shamans began chanting in their native tongues to call upon their deities to summon forth the soul of the sleeping ship from the Spirit World to come back to the mortal world and resume her duties to the Great Mother and the people of Canada. As all the shipgirls braced themselves to attention, Micmac - who always carried the Eagle Staff gifted to the warriors of Maritime Forces Atlantic, a replica of the one that had been gifted years ago to National Defence Headquarters to symbolize the eternal commitment by the native peoples of Canada to the service of the Dominion over the years; she was the secretary shipgirl for the Canadian Atlantic Fleet whenever she wasn't deployed - raised the beautiful staff before she barked out, " _ **PIPE THE SIDE! SOUND ACTION STATIONS!**_ "

A boatswain lifted his call to his lips, then blew out the still while another one hit the switch to fill the summoning chamber with a loud alarm. As the cry to go to battle stations was called out by the base coxswain over a loud horn, the Stadacona Band launched its song...

 _Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast!  
Let your mountains dark and dreary be!  
When I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,  
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?_

Recognizing the spiritual theme song of their host province, all the shipgirls joined in...

 _The sun was setting in the west,  
The birds were singing on every tree!  
All nature seemed to be at rest  
But still there was no rest for me...!_

 _Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast!  
Let your mountains dark and dreary be!  
When I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,  
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me...?_

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Cool it with the music! That's so OLD...!"

Everyone gasped before they watched as someone ascended the ramp in the chamber; unlike other nations, the Royal Canadian Navy used an inclined ramp in lieu of stairs to allow the new shipgirl to gently walk onto solid ground from the bubbling waters that had re-birthed her to join her sisters and comrades. Like all others serving the Queen in Canada, she was dressed in a skinsuit done in the beautiful blue-grey painted on RCN warships after the mid-1950s, the pendant number **400** on both her upper thighs. As many of the steamer destroyers assembled there gasped in awe on realizing who she was, Cape Scott beamed as she flipped a loonie to Québec to answer the lady's bet the two shipgirls had made. She had full rigging and equipment, though it was quite less built up than what the steamers had worn when they had arrived in the chamber on their rebirths. She had a quad canister set for Harpoon missiles on her right arm and a Phalanx CIWS on the left arm, a small radar suite on the superstructure behind her head of gold-flecked sea blue hair that extended down to her barely-shaped hips and was tied in a simple ponytail, dark eyes peeking out of a slender yet well-shaped face; it had long been noted by fans that all Canadian shipgirls seemed to gain eye and hair colours that matched their heraldic crests on their rebirth in humanoid form. Her feet were now covered in red form-fitting sea boots, they secured tightly into a two-part skeletal skate-and-brace foil structure that made many steamers gape in shock as her identity finally came to them if they didn't remember her pendant number. She was slender and as height-challenged as any Flower class corvette, appearing to be at the cusp of puberty in human terms, her body appearing to be streamlined for rapid movement.

Pulling a pair of aviator's glasses out of nowhere to slip over her eyes, she then gave a jaunty salute to a wide-eyed Rear Admiral Francis Drake Harlan, the flag officer in charge of all Canadian shipgirls. "You rang my bell, Admiral! I came! Fast Hydrofoil Escort, number 400, Her Majesty's Canadian Ship _Bras d'Or_ , reporting at flank speed ahead, sir!"

Seeing that, one grinning petty officer in the Stadacona Band who played the clarinet smirked as he looked at another petty officer, a guitarist. "She has...!" the first began.

"...the need...!"

" _ **...FOR SPEED!**_ " both of them bellowed out before the latter launched into a fast guitar riff.

The others in the band quickly dived in the song:

 _Revving up your engine,  
Listen to her howling roar!  
Metal under tension  
Begging you to touch and go!_

 _Highway to the Danger Zone!  
Ride into the Danger Zone!_

 _Heading into twilight,  
Spreading out her wings tonight!  
She got you jumping off the deck  
And shoving into overdrive!_

 _Highway to the Danger Zone!  
(I'll take you) Right into the Danger Zone!_

 _You'll never say "Hello!" to you  
Until you get it on the red line overload!  
You'll never know what you can do  
Until you get it up as high as you can go!_

 _Out along the edges,  
Always where I burn to be!  
The further on the edge,  
Hotter the intensity!_

 _Highway to the Danger Zone!  
(Gonna take you) Right into the Danger Zone!_

 _Highway to the Danger Zone!  
Ride into the Danger Zone...!_

"Hey! I can dig it!" Canada's newest shipgirl said as her body bounced to the tune...

* * *

 **Later, in the base mess hall...**

"No, Miss Dakota, you cannot use your cloning device on her!"

"But Admiral...!" South Dakota whined.

RAdm Harlan sighed. "Miss Dakota, much that I do appreciate all the support you and Miss Phoenix - not to mention Miss Vanguard, Frau Gneisenau and the other shipgirl scientists gladly pitch in when it comes to supporting our work in Canada - Bras d'Or was only _**one**_ experimental ship when she was brought into commission in 1967. And like every other Canadian ship that's been reborn as a shipgirl, she seems to have extra kit with her that she didn't have as a ship, so Niobe and Rainbow need the chance to see what she can do before we could hope to develop more."

"It appears that Miss d'Or is already proving herself, Admiral."

That was Niobe, the reincarnation of the Royal Canadian Navy's first warship, who sat down at the table in the mess hall that had once been packed with new servicemen when Canadian Forces Recruit School was active here in the 1970s and 1980s. "What does that mean, Niobe?" he asked the reborn Diadem-class cruiser who served as chief of shipgirl training at CFB Cornwallis.

"On the basin, sir?" Niobe helpfully suggested with normal British good manners.

He turned to look...

...then gasped as a mini-tidal wave splashed against the picture windows of the mess hall from the bay as a tiny form buzzed down the Annapolis Basin towards Digby. "Good GOD...!"

"Woo!" Kongō whooped out. "She's full of burning love, that one!"

"She's a BABY, Kongō-san!" Cape Scott snapped.

That instantly made the lead ship of Japan's first battlecruiser class eep in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Sensei!" she said as she repentantly bowed at the repair shipgirl.

"Don't forget that, please...!"

" _ **HEY! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, GRANNY?! BLIND MY RADAR?! PUT SOMETHING DECENT ON!**_ "

" _ **OI! WHO ARE YOU CALLING 'GRANNY', YOU CHEAP EXCUSE FOR A KAYAK?!**_ "

Everyone moaned. "Shimakaze...!" Yamato moaned out.

" _ **AH! OI! LEMME GO, YOU FREAK! HELP! CHIKAN ARTIST! LEMME GO! LEMME GO...!**_ "

Hearing the screams of the ultra-fast destroyer, everyone quickly got up and ran to the outside patio to see what was going on...before mass bow-faults caused all the shipgirls to plant their heads into the deck of the patio on seeing Shimakaze hog-tied and in a proper skinsuit, a smiling Bras d'Or standing beside her looking like a fisherman who had just caught the biggest tuna he could have pulled out of the ocean. Walking towards her now was Niobe's first lieutenant Rainbow, who was pretty much the "momboat" for all shipgirls at Cornwallis. "Well done, Miss d'Or," the reborn Apollo-class cruiser said with an approving nod. "Indeed, I must talk to the girls at Yokosuka when it comes to what this strumpet wears! It's appalling!"

Shimakaze wailed out as she tried to glare daggers at the newborn shipgirl who had caught and hogtied her so easily, steam billowing from her foretops as she tried to figure out how the hell the little corvette wanna-be was able to ambush her like she did! "You stop that, Shimakaze," Yamato then declared as she and Akagi came up to glare at the struggling destroyer, making her wilt. "I, Yamato, do not care to see such clothing worn by any fighting shipgirl of His Imperial Majesty's forces, especially in the presence of our most gracious hosts!"

A moaned apology escaped the fastest destroyer of Japan...

...then a scream escaped Bras d'Or as a hand touched her lower leg. "Oi, kawaii...!"

" _ **YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! PERVERT!**_ "

And in a blast of turbines and the thunder of waves, she was off to Saint John...!

...just as a scream for help made everyone look up just as a certain submarine crashed onto the deck close to Rainbow! " _ **IKU?!**_ " all the Japanese shipgirls gasped.

A moan escaped I-19 as she collapsed on herself. "Did someone...get the number...of that ASROC...that just hit me...?" Japan's lewdest submarine moaned out.

Nearby, the destroyer escort Assiniboine, who taught anti-submarine tactics at Cornwallis, nodded in approval. "At least she understands how to deal with a pesky submarine when she doesn't have proper weapons to sink them," the Saint Laurent-class namesake to the only Canadian warship to have ever RAMMED a U-boat during the Battle of the Atlantic mused...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	7. When Shipgirls Return from the Ice

**NOTE:** _With a nod to the late Peter Albano (1922-2006), author of the_ Seventh Carrier _series; be warned, this is a crossover with that series. Also a big nod to IJNFleetadmiral, author of_ Gaijin Teitoku _, for inspiring the last part of this little snippet. And finally, a surprise guest star, inspired by Sheo Darren's little short about a whisky-drinking skipper created by Belgium's greatest comic artist chewing out the Tsundere Division; thus, this is also a crossover with_ The Adventures of Tintin _, created by the late Hergé (AKA Georges Remi) (1907-83)._

 **3300\. Warning to all shipgirls and shipboys: If you encounter the spirit of a ship that has been isolated from outside society for a considerable number of years in the same manner as those Imperial Japanese "holdouts" from World War Two showed, please do not attempt to bring said spirit back by yourselves! There are trained psychologists who are prepared to help those spirits with PTSD issues once they're given human form. The various chaplain services worldwide are hard-pressed enough to support your various needs. They DON'T need the extra work!**

* * *

 **In the Arctic close to the eastern end of Siberia...**

"Well done, továrišči! We have allowed the convoy to get through!"

"No thanks to you big bruisers!" Labrador stated as she looked over her shoulders upon the muscular shipboy icebreakers that had come back to serve the _Ródina_ by clearing paths in the Northern Sea Route to allow convoys to sail along the Arctic cost of Russia well away from where most Abyssals operated, a shy blush crossing the cheeks of the ex-Royal Canadian Navy icebreaker who normally watched over the Northwest Passage alongside Saint Roch and sister icebreakers like Louis S. St Laurent and Terry Fox. Given that the shipboys had been nuclear-powered when they were ships, the dark sea spirits that had risen to deny humanity control of the high seas almost ALWAYS fled in the other direction before other shipboys reborn from warships of the Soviet Navy could sink them; even if they weren't armed vessels, the icebreakers' power and durability gave them the capability to either ram any Abyssal who crossed their bows...or even better, physically tear them apart with their bare hands!

They chuckled in embarrassment, many cutely scratching their rigging as they blushed in turn at the Canadian's obvious interest...before a certain Arctic schooner given honorary commissioner's rank in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police cleared her throat. "Alright, then," Saint Roch called out. "Let's get that convoy around mys Dežnëva and through the Strait so it can get to Japan. People have need of those supplies." She ignored the smiles from the Russian shipboys on hearing her pronounce the local name of the easternmost point in Eurasia in their language with next to no accent; like the Japanese, the natives of the largest nation on Earth appreciated it when foreigners worked hard to learn their native tongue.

A fearful whine then escaped the tiny Abyssal now at the feet of Jamál. "What?! What is it, Ártiša?!" the playful brunette shipboy cooed as he gently ruffled the child-spirit's head, which made her purr as she moved to hug his black trousers...even if she still stared in wide-eyed, near-mortal fear towards an ice-blocked cove located not far from Cape Dežnëv.

The Japanese shipgirls all perked on sensing how frightened the little being - who was not so much older in physical looks than Hōshō's own adopted daughter Hoppō - now was. "Is this normal behaviour for Ártika-chan, Jamál-sensei?" Yamato then asked.

"Da, it is...but only _here_ , továrišč," the red-haired icebreaker reported. "Any other place in the Arctic, it's no problem at all for her when she accompanies us on our missions. However, whenever she gets close to mys Dežnëva, she starts to panic as if Comrade Terra Nova was about to drop those nuclear depth bomb-laiden anti-submarine rocket torpedoes of hers on Ártiša's head!"

"Call Hōshō-sensei, Akagi-san," Musashi ordered Akagi. Like Hoppō, Ártika had defected to the Russians because she didn't wish to fight, so she deserved protection, even from some weird fear that didn't make any sense to anyone else, human or reborn ship spirit alike. "Given her experience with Hoppō-chan, maybe she can help us understand what's wrong with Ártika-chan."

"Hai, Musashi-san! Right away!"

A link with Yokosuka was soon formed on the carrier's satellite cell phone. After the message was relayed, Hoppō was allowed to come on the screen, then the fleet carrier moved over to hold the screen before Ártika to allow the Abyssals to converse in their native tongue. After a moment, Hoppō turned as grey as hurricane clouds before she began to cry, hugging Hōshō's leg. Seeing that made the shipgirls and shipboys alike blink. "What's wrong with Hoppóša?!" Frúnze asked.

"I can't answer that, Frúnze-san," Japan's first aircraft carrier replied to the fourth of the Gángut-class dreadnoughts from her restaurant close to Yokosuka. "Hoppō-chan was just told by Ártika-chan that she's close to what all Abyssals very respectfully call the 'Angry One'." A pause as Hoppō chattered fearfully at her adopted mother before Hōshō added, "Hoppō-chan just said that Abyssal Princesses and even the _**Empresses**_ have tried many times to call the Angry One back as one of them, but the sheer scale of her fury, her loyalty to whomever she sees as her lord and her lust for revenge and justice is just too much even for _**them**_!" As the shipboys and shipgirls all gaped at the idea of a ship spirit being so powerful that it could resist the ability of even the most powerful Abyssal to transform it into one of their warriors, Hōshō added, "I can't imagine who this could be...!"

"Let me put up reconnaissance aircraft to look around," Zuikaku then volunteered as she notched an arrow full of a flight of A6Ms into her bow, then launched them off.

Everyone relaxed as Hōshō and Jamál then moved to calm their adopted children down. Minutes passed as elements of the combined shipgirl/shipboy force from Europe helped the convoy of container ships, bulk carriers and oil tankers slip through the just-opened waterway to get to the Bering Strait and the sea beyond for the final run down to Japan. After a moment, Zuikaku perked as something chattered over her radio detection gear. "Wait! There's a ship frozen in a cove close the cape! It's huge! Between a Midway-class and a Forrestal-class carrier in dimensions...what...?!"

She was now as pale as a ghost. "What is it, Zuikaku?!" Shōkaku demanded.

The pony-tailed grey-haired carrier turned to gape wide-eyed at her sister. "Shōkaku-nē...it's a signal from a ship...with the _Unit 731_ secret radio prefix code!" As the Japanese shipgirls all recoiled in disgusted shock on hearing the name of their nation's infamous biological and chemical warfare unit from the Second Sino-Japanese War and the Greater East Asia War, Zuikaku then perked before she closed her eyes. "It...the message is strange..."

"What is it?!" Akagi demanded.

Zuikaku blinked. "It's a question: 'Did you climb Mount Niitaka'?"

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"It can't be...not HER!" a now-white Kaga moaned out.

"Up HERE?! How in the name of the Kami did she get up HERE?!" Hiryū demanded.

"This is too far out of the way! I know they had to hide her, but...!" Sōryū sputtered.

" _ **URUSAI!**_ "

That was Yamato, who was now glaring at the six fleet carriers. "What are you talking about?" the eldest of Japan's super battleships demanded as she tapped her foot on the water.

The veterans of the Pearl Harbour attack all gulped before they looked down. "Forgive us, Yamato-san...but didn't you or Musashi-san know of Yonaga-san?" Akagi then asked.

Confused blinks answered them. "Who?" Musashi demanded.

"Hull 797," Kaga stated.

Both battleships looked as if they got torpedoed in the main magazines by destroyers from Taffy 3. " _ **HULL 797?! KAGA NO BAKA! SHE WAS NEVER BUILT!**_ " Musashi shrilled.

"She was!" Zuikaku stated. "Yonaga-san was actually brought into service months before you, Yamato-san! She was built in secret in Maizuru! But because they put an extra fifty-metre section into her hull and gave her extra boilers for more power, they had to hide her from spies! So she was 'commissioned' into Unit 731 and sent off to prepare for Plan Z...and then..."

"We never heard from her again," Akagi finished. "We thought you were told...!"

"Does it LOOK like it?!" Musashi snarled.

"Is she like us now, Miss Akagi?"

That was Saint Roch. The veterans of Pearl Harbour blinked, then Zuikaku concentrated. A moment later, she blinked. "Hai, Commissioner...and she's still trapped in the ice...!"

Hearing that, Yamato and Musashi screamed out as they charged at the cape, their guns swinging around to bear on the sheet of ice that had attracted the attention of Zuikaku's reconnaissance flight. Seconds later, eighteen 18.1 inch guns roared out, shattering huge hunks of the frozen water to get at what lay entombed within what those who had died there once called "Sano Bay". While Frúnze went out to tell a confused Bismarck what was going on, the giant cliff of ice finally disintegrated, revealing what was clearly a near-sister of Shinano in her birth form, though it was now buried under metres of ice, the flight deck and many parts of the hull being crushed under the relentless weight. Seeing that, the Yamato sisters croaked in horror...before they blinked as a mist then escaped the hull of _Yonaga_...

The mists then faded...to reveal a shapely woman dressed like the other Plan Z carrier veterans in a beautiful kyūdō-ka's dark grey kimono...though she wore a rider's proper black hakama in lieu of the short skirts other carriers sometimes preferred. A daikyū was in one hand with a quiver filled with arrows bearing her massive air flotilla slung over her back. She also had a samurai's daishō slung on her left hip. Slung on her back was a flight deck, thick dark grey metal surmounted by dark teak wood, the katakana **ヨ** at the port aft end. As befitting her being an armoured carrier, she also wore a kendō-ka's dō protecting her considerable chest and abdomen topped with a single-flap tare as her would-be First Fleet comrades also wore with their clothes protecting her hips and groin, that also possessing the visual deck symbol marking who she was. She also had arm guards lined with a forest of five inch and 25 millimetre anti-air cannons, making her appear to be a near-equal of any American carrier when it came to self-defence. To mark she was still a Yamato-class ship even if she was a carrier, the raven-haired beauty with the stormy grey eyes wore the bow-like gorget with the Imperial chrysanthemum protecting her neck her sisters did.

"Yonaga-san...?" Kaga gasped.

Hearing that voice, the newcomer gazed upon the others...before she faintly smiled, her eyes misty with shamed tears. "Did you climb Mount Niitaka, Kaga-san?" she asked in a voice that echoed like an Arctic wind, making the shuddering Abyssal next to Jamál wail as she hid behind the icebreaker to keep him between her and the Angry One. "Did you complete the mission...?"

The veterans of Pearl exchanged looks, then Akagi nodded. "We did, Yonaga-san."

"And doomed our nation and ourselves as a response," Kaga added.

Hearing that made Yonaga nod. "Is it true?"

"What is, Yonaga-san?" Shōkaku asked.

"That the Americans forgave you all for the 'day of infamy'?"

"At least their shipgirls who were there that day did," Zuikaku stated. "They'll be more happy to know that you not only survived the war intact, but are alive and well now."

Yonaga's mouth twitched in a wry smile. "As...one of the kantai musume?"

"They all are now," Yamato confirmed.

Silence fell over the scene, then Yonaga sighed before her eyes focused on the handsome Russian icebreakers nearby...then she gazed at the curious creature at the starboard aft side of one. Her eyebrow arched, then she looked at Yamato and Musashi. "Tell me, Onēsama-tachi, what has happened in the world? My radios finally failed me just after I became this and I had to bury the rest of my crew in a shrine they erected for their dead at the forward end of my hangar deck."

"There is a threat we all now face from the seas, Miss Yonaga," Saint Roch stated, moving into position to allow the Seventh Carrier of Plan Z to see her skinsuit with the RCMP badge on her top and her rank on her shoulders. As the carrier's eyes went wide on seeing a _**Canadian**_ shipgirl here - and one in the colours of the Dominion's famous national police force - the schooner smiled. "While I wish not to sound crass before a samurai such as yourself, your Heavenly Sovereign has need of all those who served his late father in the Greater East Asia War to return and join shipgirls and shipboys of other nations to put down this threat. It disturbs the peace of His Realm and the peace of other nations. I'm sure once he's fully appraised of your existence, he'll gladly welcome you back as a warrior of His Realm."

Hearing that made Yonaga blink, then her eyes squeezed shut as pain and shame crossed her face, tears she wouldn't publicly shed brimming in her eyes. "My...deepest thanks for your kindness, Saint Roch-keishi." Seeing the schooner's eyebrow arch in surprise on noting that this one knew of her, Yonaga smiled. "My crew heard the shortwave broadcast of news of your sailing through the Arctic like you did, all alone and unsupported, in both directions, from Vancouver to Halifax and back. You have samurai spirit." She sighed. "There is anger that burns inside me. Anger and frustration. We all heard the _Daitōa-sensō Shūketsu_ _no Shōsho_ sent out after the Americans burned Hiroshima and Nagasaki to cinders with their special bombs...but to the end...!"

Horror then filled every shipgirl and shipboy present. "They never...?!" Musashi hissed out.

"No, Onē-sama..." Yonaga said with a shake of her head, tears flowing freely now down her cheek. "To the end, to the last one...they never believed _Sh_ _ō_ _wa Tenn_ _ō_ surrendered...that the war was over...!"

As moans of horror escaped the other shipgirls there, Yonaga dropped to her knees, making Yamato and Musashi rush over as they moved to comfort their once-lost sister.

A second later, a scream of outraged agony echoed over the Arctic...

* * *

Around the world, Abyssals of all types perked on hearing that awful bellow rebound through the seas before they all - even to the Empresses themselves - cringed in horror.

As whimpers and hissed pleas of mercy to the Fates escaped many, others shuddered.

The source of that howl of fury and sorrow was known to them all.

Their worst nightmare had finally come.

 _ **THE ANGRY ONE WAS**_ **FREE** _ **...!**_

* * *

 **Yokosuka, two weeks later...**

"Ano...Yonaga-sempai?"

"Enter, Fubuki-san."

The special destroyer nodded as she stepped into the new bedroom set aside for Japan's most powerful carrier in one of the empty dorms of the base. She was now in a meditative pose on the raised part of the deck by her futon, gazing out at the dockyard beyond. Stopping to pay her respects to the beautiful kamidana bearing a miniature version of the Shrine of Infinite Salvation that had been in Yonaga's hangar and offer a prayer to the over 2,600 who died on her over the past several decades, Fubuki then moved to stand behind her host, bowing respectfully. "Sempai, the Canadian squadron just sailed in escorting Mercy-sensei, Comfort-sensei and Brittanic-sensei; they were sent to retrieve the bodies of your crew and the artifacts of the Shrine of Infinite Salvation to the Naval District. The admiral wished you to know right away."

Hearing that, the carrier blinked before she nodded. "Arigatō, Fubuki-san." She then perked before she gazed on the destroyer. "A question before you go, though."

That made Fubuki perked. "Wh-what is it, S-s-Sempai?" she sputtered out.

Hearing the fear in the other shipgirl's voice, Yonaga tried not to groan. Ever since she came back to Japan, almost every native shipgirl outside the battleships and the carriers found themselves utterly floundering around her, completely clueless as to how to deal with the Seventh Carrier of Plan Z. Much that Yonaga tried as hard as she could, the scalding sorrow of sensing her whole crew die on her decks while they were trapped in Sano Bay sometimes triggered sudden bouts of terrible rage that made the cruisers, destroyers and submarines scatter in every direction to avoid having their boilers vented out at the business end of her katana or wakizashi. Not even chronic delinquents like Iku were tempted to do anything close to Yonaga; the one time Japan's lewdest submarine copped a feel from the curvy carrier, she nearly got bombed out of existence by a flight of D3As!

Yet in an ironic twist, visiting shipgirls from America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Europe looked on the seventh carrier with nothing short of awe. She had instantly won respect from Pearl's Battleship Row for "standing the watch" for as long as she did. Even more, after learning the ships of Taffy 3 were being regulated in guest quarters befitting their type by Mamiya's sister Irako (the shipgirl in charge of guest accommodations on the base), Yonaga nearly beheaded her before she marched the destroyers, destroyer escorts and carriers to her nearly-empty dorm house to relax, befitting their "proper" status as true warriors and defenders of their nation and Constitution.

In the end, few could figure what this lonely warrior would do _**next**_!

"That building in the corner of the grounds near Akashi-sensei's shop," Yonaga said. "What is in there? Every time I look, all of you shy away from it as if my old 'employers' were busy conducting their germ experiments inside it." Her eyes narrowed. "Well, Fubuki-san?"

Fubuki gulped before she bowed. "It's a ship-breaking firm, Sempai..." she moaned out.

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"I see," Yonaga snarled as she rose, her hands snaring her daishō as she stormed out.

Fubuki watched her go, as pale as a ghost...

* * *

 **Ten minutes later...**

A thunderous _BANG!_ echoed over the yard, making all the shipgirls and the human staff there yelp in shock before they looked over to see the most hated building on the grounds disappear in clouds of smoke and wrecked masonry and wood. As a disbelieving gasp echoed over the grounds on seeing that despised structure disappear so suddenly, a roar that could blow down a hurricane echoed over the dockyard, making everyone up to and including Admiral Gotō Isoroku himself wince...

" _ **TEN THOUSAND THUNDERING TYPHOONS! WHAT WILD, WAR-MONGERING WOLVERINE IS WRECKING MY YARD?!**_ "

As people winced and the so-called "Tsundere Division" all drooled in anticipation in seeing the famous cargo ship skipper launch into another wonderful litany of non-profane curse words at whoever just demolished the building that had housed a private firm dedicated to "cleaning up the wreckage of the Abyssal War" when their services were finally called upon...

"Ah! Miss Yonaga! It's you! Just found out about those lecherous, leeching lampreys, did you?"

...then everyone committed bow-faults on hearing Captain Archibald Haddock calmly greet the newest shipgirl to have joined the fleet as if they were having afternoon tea!

"Indeed I did, Haddock-taisa," Yonaga said as she lowered her bow, then held out her deck to allow her entire strike force of 140 aircraft to come land. "My apologies for not warning you ahead of time, but I just learned from Fubuki-san about what was inside that particular building." An embarrassed smile then crossed her face. "My emotions...got the better of me."

Hearing that, all the shipgirls gasped on hearing what Yonaga just did, then they all exploded in cheers and screams. As the whimpering ship-breakers all tried to cower away from the typhoon-angry carrier, Yonaga hummed. "Um, Onēsama-tachi?" she then asked as she gazed on Yamato and Musashi, both of whom were trying not to blow their turbines laughing at the sight of their sister acting like a complete amoral psychopath. "Does that ice cream shop nearby serve matcha?"

"Sorry, lass. They ran out of it yesterday," Haddock warned. "Miss Shinano has a zest for it. They'll get new supplies shipped in within three days."

Yonaga blinked as Ōdoyo instantly rushed into the communications room to send a flash message to the nearest supply group to get tonnes of green tea ice cream shipped to Yokosuka ASAP before the whole dockyard got turned into kindling by one very battle-crazed carrier! The seventh carrier then hummed as she turned away, a hungry smile crossing her face. "I'll have to discuss that with the owners...as well as speak to the local kaikei of the Inagawa-kai...!"

That made the ship-breakers croak on hearing that this living shipgirl samurai gladly maintained connections to the _**Yakuza**_ of all people! "After all, the _ninkyō dantai_ do pour all their hearts into making sure that shop is properly stocked and supported. Such devotion to the Heavenly Sovereign and His Realm must always be respected despite their...other activities," Yonaga added in a purr that was half-sensual/half-savage while Haddock turned to cover his mouth in a polite cough while hiding his smirk. "I'll have to discuss... _ **other**_ things with them as well," she growled as her eyes focused on the ship-breakers for a moment before turning to head off. "Oh, Haddock-taisa...!"

"Aye, lass?"

"Would you and the other longshoremen be bothered if the new Shrine of Infinite Salvation is constructed in that just-freed space at the corner of the yard?"

Haddock smiled. "None of the lads will mind it at all, Miss Yonaga."

"Arigatō. Since the Heavenly Sovereign has granted me the right to ensure that all is in harmony here at the dockyard, I'll make sure no one... _ **interferes**_..."

The sharp sound of a katana being partially drawn from its scabbard made the ship-breakers all scream in mortal terror before they literally RAN off the island! As the other shipgirls gaped in awe and shock on seeing how easily the despised workers had been chased off their base so easily, Yonaga calmly withdrew from the scene, humming peacefully...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	8. When Shipgirls Visit Hogwarts

_**NOTE:**_ _Including characters and situations from_ Harry Potter _, created by Joanna Rowling;_ The Seventh Carrier _, created by Peter Albano; and_ Mahō Sensei Negima _, created by Akamatsu Ken._

 **3311\. From 6SL (Sixth Sea Lord) of the Royal Navy to all shipgirls visiting Britain: Please don't do anything that provokes incidents with our country's magical population. Much that many such people are hick, backwards morons who still think automobiles are a "passing muggle fad" - thus would not understand the concept of shipgirls! - they are still Her Majesty's subjects and are under the protection of HM Shipgirls currently in service with the Royal Navy.  
3311(A). Yes, the International Mercantile Bank of Gringotts is always happy to do business with shipgirls, but please do nothing that provokes what human magicals call a "goblin rebellion". We don't need an magical war at the same time we're dealing with the Abyssals!  
3311(B). Yes, house elves can be purchased even by foreign shipgirls. Given how proficient the little buggers are, they're just as good as dockyard faeries and they ease supply issues.  
3311(C). Please do not chant the name "Voldemort" around British human magicals. Even if it has been years since he was destroyed by Harry Potter, many are still skittish about that name. Of course, variations of the man's **_**nom de guerre**_ **such as "Moldyshorts" are permitted...even if many who hear you will look at you strange.  
3311(D). Yes, you can get **_**The Quibbler**_ **. Despite its reputation among human magicals, it is an accurate window on European magical society once you get past the "tabloid" slant of some of its articles. Luna Lovegood is always happy to interview shipgirls. Please have your admiral contact their liaison with local magic ministries to arrange subscriptions.  
3311(E). A request from HM Minister for Magic: PLEASE stop sending fan letters to Harry Potter! He's already got enough issues with magical fan girls; it's scaring the poor man from seeking a wife and the magical conservatives in the Wizengamot are making unnecessary noises that might require Royal intervention. He doesn't need shipgirl fan girls!**

* * *

 **HM Naval Base Portsmouth...**

Yonaga was bored.

She had just completed her first ocean run from the Home Islands, helping escort a convoy from Australia to Britain. Of course, cleaning out the Red Sea of Abyssals had been disgustingly easy for someone like her, especially given her reputation among those creatures as the "Angry One", the one shipgirl even the Empresses were mortally terrified of. It could lead to potential problems in the future given the rather cocky way some of the admirals were prosecuting the war against those dark sea yōma, but that didn't really worry Yonaga at this time. Right now, she was enjoying a soak in a refurbishment dock after a long deployment halfway around the world.

"Restless, aren't you?"

She perked, then gazed over at Ark Royal, who was in the next refurbishment dock. "Yes, I am," Yonaga answered in Oxford-perfect English; given that the Imperial Navy had been influenced heavily by the Royal Navy at the start, mastering the language of worldwide communications had been ridiculously easy for her. "After all those decades alone in Sano Bay with my crew dying on my decks..." - she ignored the sympathetic winces from the shipgirls in the other repair docks - "...it is wonderful to be able to fight at last for the Heavenly Sovereign, much that I'm sure you all were happy to respond to Her Majesty's call for action."

"Aye, lass, we did," Repulse said from the bay beside Prince of Wales. "Especially...!"

 _POP!_

Yonaga jolted on hearing that burst of displaced air, then reached for her daikyū...

...before she gaped on seeing the smiling creature - who only came up to her knee - standing on the jetty between herself and Ark Royal. It - He? She? - was dressed in a proper Royal Navy square rig uniform, a sailor's cap with Ark Royal's tally on its head. A tray with tea was in its hands. "Miss Royal, your tea," the creature squeaked in what was a male voice as he bowed his head to the other carrier.

"Oh, bless you, Roy," Ark Royal said as she took the fine china cup from the tray in hand, then sipped from it. "Oh, did you bring the Russian caravan tea that I also asked for?"

"Aye, Miss Royal, but who...?"

"Miss Yonaga here."

The creature blinked, then looked at Yonaga...before his eyes grew to the size of the bore of the main guns her sisterships carried. "Miss Yonaga!" he squealed out, which made the Japanese carrier blink. "Oh, Roy is happy to serve She Who Scares the Dark Ones! Roy is sure that Miss Yonaga and Harry Potter will chase away the Dark Ones and let all be at peace again! Roy will get you some scones!"

 _POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!_ Suddenly, there were a platoon's worth of these creatures, all in proper square rig with the tallies of other ships on their caps, moving to fawn over the Japanese carrier as they wildly chatted away, which made her gape in shock at such adoration while all her hosts tried not to collapse in peals of laughter on seeing the "Angry One" so embarrassed...

* * *

 **London, on Charing Cross Road, four hours later...**

"So...those were house elves?"

A blushing Yonaga - whose clothes and combat rigging were now perfectly pressed and cleaned, her daishō shiny with fresh linseed oil and wood and leather polish - was walking down Charing Cross Road after taking the Tube from London Waterloo after a calming train trip from Portsmouth. Around her, the shipgirls acting as hosts to the Seventh Carrier of Plan Z chuckled in amusement. "Aye, lass, they were," Duke of York stated, her voice flecked with a Scots brogue given her birthplace was the famous John Brown & Company shipyard near Glasgow. "They're all darlings and some of the more sensible lot when it comes to magicals in the Realm...even if their own magic compels them to serve humans. Since we are magical to the extreme, they were drawn to us like iron shavings to a magnet. Caused issues with the arrogant twits running the Ministry of Mor-...!" She then politely coughed. "Er, sorry about that! I meant the Ministry of Magic!" As the other British shipgirls laughed, the battleship then added, "Well, after their prison on Azkaban Island out near Scapa Flow was destroyed by the North Sea Princess, they fell into line at the double-quick."

Yonaga nodded. Like all shipgirls, part of her initial "commissioning" briefing let her learn about the hidden magical and metahuman societies on Earth active at this time. For the most part, people like that always stayed within their enclaves and interacted only with their own kind; centuries old fears concerning how normal humans might react to the existence of magic prevented them even now from dropping the secrecy veil over their communities. Outside Europe, it wasn't too bad; most magicals worldwide understood what was going on concerning the Abyssals and did everything within reason to help normals and shipgirls alike to prosecute the war. This was especially true in Japan; the Heavenly Sovereign's Eight Magical Commanderies (the eight regional Magical Associations who administered human magicals on the Home Islands on behalf of the Chrysanthemum Throne) had gladly shielded coastal cities from the initial Abyssal attacks before Kongō and her sisters returned to mortal form. Even now, warriors from places like Mahora gladly helped in spiritual cleansing ceremonies that allowed beings like young Hoppō to live alongside shipgirls and normal humans. Of course, the contribution native magicals from Canada had made to the war over the last year and more had been incredible given how much Cold War technology had been brought into play, which had cleaned out the northeast Pacific, the northwest Atlantic and most of the Arctic of the dark sea yōma.

But the British, however...

"Ah! There it is!"

Yonaga blinked, then noted the old-fashioned pub located on the west side of Charing Cross Road. Stepping inside, she sensed the magical notice-me-not barrier washing over her body which prevented normal Londoners from walking into the famous Leaky Cauldron, the usual gateway used by the families of normal-borns when they were first introduced to Wizarding Britain; of course, such a "muggle repellent" charm had no effect on a shipgirl. Soon enough, a pretty blonde witch guided them to a table. "Usual ship-fare, girls?" Hannah Longbottom asked as the assorted carriers and battleships got comfortable.

"Double the amount for our visiting samurai, Hannah," Prince of Wales stated as she indicated Yonaga. "We've got the bloody Seventh Carrier herself visiting us for the next week or so; she helped escort that convoy from Australia that came in a few days ago."

Hannah blinked before she gaped. "She Who Scares the Dark Ones?!"

"Aye," Duke of York said with a smirk.

 _POP!_

Yonaga then gaped on seeing a meal before her that could have gorged all her sisters _**combined**_! "Um...thank you," she eeped out as the other shipgirls were then served by the Leaky Cauldron's staff of house elves, all of whom were staring at Yonaga with nothing short of adoration.

While many of the human magicals inwardly shivered on sensing the rolls of angry power flowing off that whatever-she-was in the traditional Japanese robes, Hannah tried not to fall over laughing...

* * *

 **Diagon Alley, an hour later...**

"Dinnae be surprised at that, Yonaga," Duke of York stated as she escorted the seventh carrier around Wizarding Britain's main market street. "While most magical humans are ignorant wankers given how they've been made over the years to believe that they're superior to 'muggles', there are the smart ones among them. Got bloodied like you wouldn't believe when that Voldemort...!"

Gasps escaped several people nearby. "Miss! Don't say that name!" one elderly witch hissed.

That made the Scots-born battleship groan. "Bloody heck!" she snarled out before glaring at the small crowd who had been subconsciously attracted by the waves of powerful magic shipgirls always projected from their bodies. "That wanker's been dead since '98 and yuir STILL scared to hear his stupid, anagramized name?! What the bloody hell's the matter with you all?!"

"Stop teasing them, Your Ladyship," a calm voice with an almost-East Midlands accent called out from the direction of Gringotts. "Yes, it's annoying as hell even now after Moldyshorts was made nothing but ashes drifting in the wind..." - that earned the dark-haired speaker with the reading glasses approaching the shipgirls now stunned glances from the crowd, many of them looking as if this fellow with the marksman's eyes (as Yonaga was quick to note) was tempting the Fates by butchering the late dark lord's _nom de guerre_ like he did - "...but they'll need time to fully adjust to him being forever gone."

"It's been over _**two decades**_ , Harry," Prince of Wales drawled out.

That made the Man Who Won sigh. "True, true..."

A loud _CRACK!_ then echoed over the alley as someone apparated in. "Mister Potter!"

He turned to look as a stern witch in traditional robes came up. "What's wrong, Professor?" Harry Potter asked as he tensed on seeing the upset look on her face.

"Those bloody Abyssals!" Minerva McGonagall snarled out, her brogue coming out into the fore as it always did in these situations. "One of them got into the Hogwarts Lake and it's moving to attack the students! I saw someone in Death Eater robes lurking about; he might have...!"

"He might have summoned it!" Harry finished, a scowl crossing his face. Even now, years after Voldemort fell, those who were relatives of his fighters still believed in his cause and were willing to do anything to prosecute it. "Bloody hell! I'll get the Aurors...!"

"Take me to this yōma. I will deal with it."

Eyes locked on Yonaga, who had manifested her combat rigging, a hungry smile on her face. Seeing that anticipatory grimace made even Harry quake in his boots.

 _Shit! She could bloody hell scare Bellatrix Lestrange...!_

* * *

 **Near Hogwarts, a half-hour later...**

Students at the school watching from the ancient castle's ramparts gaped in awe while not shivering too much from the artificially-created winds as they watched the howling Abyssal be dive-bombed and torpedoed by swarms of D3As and B5Ns while being strafed by swarms of A6Ms, not to mention the forest of five inch guns that a certain shipgirl samurai could bring to play as she lazily orbited the creature; Yonaga had been able to launch her 140 strike aircraft thanks to a powerful air movement charm thanks to Minerva McGonagall. After the poor Abyssal was finally ripped apart by one wave of D3As, the students at Hogwarts howled their delight and support as Yonaga held out her deck to allow her air group to land and replenish her quiver. Once the Hogwarts Lake was at peace, Yonaga then relaxed herself before she gazed at one cove. "You can come out now," she then gently teased.

People then laughed as the giant squid that normally inhabited the lake appeared, waving a tentacle in thanks, then they cheered anew at such a spectacular victory by one of the legendary shipgirls, the strange beings that were doing more to positively bridge the gap between magical and normal these days than anyone else had done since the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was passed in 1689. With that, Yonaga sailed over to the dock where part of the Triwizard Tournament started from years ago, allowing her rigging to disperse as she walked onto land. She then found herself being fawned over by a particular half-giant. "Ye alright, Miss Yonaga?" Rubeus Hagrid asked as he moved to escort the carrier towards the castle.

"It was not difficult, Professor Hagrid," Yonaga responded as a look of icy determination crossed her face. "Where is the traitorous swine that started this madness?"

"Professor Flitwick got him," Hagrid snarled out. "It was Draco Malfoy! Just as bloody bad as his father! After all the things Professor Dumbledore and Harry did for the monster...!"

"Take me to him! And hide the children!" On noting the larger man's curious look, the carrier smirked, winking. "We don't want all of them to start viewing the thestrals after I behead the traitor, do we? No need to distress their parents more than necessary. Agreed?"

He cackled, which would have made all his friends gape in shock at such a cold display of emotion. While he was a peaceful man at heart, Hagrid loathed the idea of people actually trying something that would bring the students of Hogwarts to harm, even by any "misunderstood beastie". Given his own ancestry, he also had more than enough reason to hate anything that Voldemort espoused. "Aye!"

"Miss Yonaga?!"

She stopped, then looked as an aristocratic young man in school robes walked up to her, dressed in the green-and-silver of Slytherin. "You are?" Yonaga curtly demanded.

A bow of the head in greetings responded. "Scorpius Malfoy. My father was the monster that unleashed that thing on the lake in hopes of having the normal-borns 'cleansed' from Hogwarts," the young man hissed, his face twisted with both disgust and shame. "Believe me, Miss Yonaga, my family and the families of others who were tricked by that half-blood bastard child Riddle years ago do NOT support anything that would reduce our society to nothing. We're still nowhere near ready to embrace the normals and can't start to understand what powers made those like you what you are, but it still doesn't excuse Father from trying to hurt my peers with that whatever-it-was you just destroyed!"

Yonaga nodded. "Be a good leader to your people and I will consider this incident resolved, Master Scorpius." She smirked. "After I claim your father's head." As Scorpius grimly nodded - that thing had nearly killed his girlfriend Rose Granger-Weasley before Filius Flitwick saved her with a shield charm and gave Neville Longbottom the chance to get her and the other students back to the safety of Hogwarts - the carrier added, "Her Majesty has declared the Abyssals a threat to Her Realm demanding destruction, as much as my own Heavenly Sovereign has. Despite what many of your elders believe, you are Her subjects, thus answerable to Her Royal Proclamations, even more so than your normal peers." By then, they had made it to the main courtyard, where a scowling Minerva McGonagall stood. "Where is he, Headmistress?"

"The Great Hall," the former transfiguration professor stated as they turned to head towards the largest room in the castle. "I have the little ones hidden, lass." She shook her head, the guilt and frustration she felt at having not curbed that sort of behaviour when Scorpius' father was a student here in the 1990s dropping on her like the weight of the world on Atlas' shoulders.

Yonaga was quick to notice. "Do not blame yourself, Headmistress," she then soothed. "It is not your fault that Master Scorpius' fool father was led astray by that yōma Voldemort." She ignored Hagrid's and Minerva's shivers on her saying Tom Riddle's battle name. "At least Master Scorpius here has the honour to stand up for what he believes in. Or is it something else?" she then teased as she gave the young Slytherin a knowing look, making Scorpius fluster in embarrassment.

"Scorpius!"

He turned, then gasped as Rose flew into his arms, they sharing a relieved kiss. Seeing that, Yonaga smiled knowingly as she followed Minerva into the Great Hall, where a snarling older version of Scorpius was kneeling on the cold stone floor, dressed in the dark robes of a Death Eater and tied in something a shibari artist back in Japan would admire. A scowling Filius Flitwick stood nearby, wand drawn. Also there was Neville Longbottom, a beautiful broadsword in hand as he glared death at his former schoolmate. On seeing his son, Draco Malfoy barked, "Scorpius! Get me free of this... _ **WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT MUDBLOOD-BORN BLOOD TRAITOR?!**_ "

He then gasped as the very sharp edge of a katana touched his throat. "Do be quiet, Lord Draco," Yonaga calmly called out as she also drew her wakizashi. She then blinked before she gazed on Filius. "'Mudblood'?" she then asked in honest curiosity.

"A racial slur given to those born of non-magical parents, Miss Yonaga," the charms professor and duelling master stated with an icy smile while Draco tried not to soil himself on realizing how close he was to becoming a head shorter. "People like Mister Malfoy here call themselves 'purebloods' because they can trace wizarding ancestry on both sides of the family at least four generations," he then added. "And 'blood traitor' is the term Mister Malfoy's former master once used to describe those purebloods who didn't agree to Riddle's philosophies, as Miss Granger-Weasley's father and his family did during our most recent civil war."

"I see. I've been told by my locka friends how few there are of Her Majesty's magical subjects. Given this yakuza's behaviour just now, I take it he wouldn't share a bedchamber with a 'mudblood'."

"Of course not, Miss Yonaga. That would automatically make him a 'blood traitor'."

"Thus those who support such insanity would experience inbreeding problems, correct?"

"Sadly so." Filius then blinked. "Er, if I may ask, Miss Yonaga...?"

"Many decades in the ice made my crew teach themselves many things before the madness of loneliness made them all end their lives over the years," Yonaga explained. "Animal husbandry was one of many such subjects my crew taught themselves; it helped in staying alive when they fished in the Arctic and traded with the local natives while they tried to find some way to break me free of Sano Bay to complete their mission." The magicals in the room were quick to sense the sorrow tinting the carrier's words on saying that. "Now, back to this yakuza..."

"Yonaga!"

She turned to see Ark Royal come in, followed by Rose's parents and a yeoman warder from the Tower of London, a large halberd in hand. "What are you doing here?" Yonaga asked.

"I take it Her Majesty has been told, Miss Royal?" Minerva stated.

"Aye, Professor, that she has," the British carrier stated. "And she's **_not_** happy."

"I'm here to deal with this traitor to the Realm, Headmistress," the yeoman warder stated before he smiled politely at the shipgirl holding the katana at Draco's neck. "Of course, if Miss Yonaga here is willing to carry out the execution, I won't stand in her way."

As Draco sputtered in horror on realizing that the one being about Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt that could affect his life had just come down against him so easily, Yonaga smiled. "You have my thanks, good sir. It would be dishonourable to see such a lovely weapon stained with this **_staleblood_** 's bodily fluids!"

Neville laughed. "'Staleblood'?! That's bloody good, ma'am!"

"Then let's spice it up a bit!"

Everyone perked, then turned to look. "Luna! What are you doing here?!" Ark Royal demanded.

The magical reporter and naturalist from Ottery Saint Catchpole came up, dressed in her normal clothing...though she had a reporter's fedora on her head. Accompanying her at this time was a grinning Harry Potter. "Oh, I'm here to witness Yonaga and Harry teaching silly Draco there the fine art of **_seppuku_** , Ark Royal," Luna Lovegood stated. "After all, he's condemned to die now and we don't have Azkaban available to us thanks to the Abyssals, so it's either an executioner's axe or Yonaga's beautiful katana and wakizashi." She then came up to gaze on Draco, her pale eyes turning as cold as the Arctic ice that had trapped Yonaga for so long. "After all, my sons were here when you unleashed that Abyssal that nearly killed poor Rose," she added in a voice that dripped with both scorn and a mother's outrage. "So it's only right that Harry will finally call in the Life Debt you owe him for saving you from Riddle all those years ago...then you will take Yonaga's wakizashi - that's her short sword, by the way - and cut you belly open with it, then she'll behead you with her katana..."

Draco croaked on hearing that, then he fell back in a dead faint! Seeing that, Ron Weasley sighed before shaking his head. "That's a bloody shame," he lamented.

"Why?" Hermione Granger asked her husband.

"They just don't make dark lords like they used to, 'Mione!"

Hearing that made people gape before Yonaga roared with laughter...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	9. Vignette: When Nagato Adopted Harry

_**NOTE:**_ _Based on the_ Harry Potter _/_ Kantai Collection _vignettes written by Harry Leferts at the Sufficient Velocity forum. Including characters/situations from_ The Seventh Carrier _by Peter Albano and_ The Adventures of Tintin _by Hergé. Please note that this story is not part of the continuity as my entries for the "Things No Longer Allowed Involving Shipgirls" list at the SpaceBattles forum._

* * *

 **One day in Yokosuka...**

"Nagato-san."

Hearing that icy voice from behind her made the battleship gasp before she looked over her shoulder at the dark kami in shipgirl form that had walked into the main briefing room with the stealth of a ninja. "Yonaga-san! Stop sneaking up on people like that!" the secretary to Admiral Gotō hissed out at Japan's mightiest carrier, who was dressed in her normal dark green kyūdō-ka's kimono and black hakama, the kendō-ka chest/abdomen and loin shields protecting her curvy, tall body; in many ways, the dark-haired shipgirl with the stormy grey eyes matched the description many fans of the kantai musume worldwide gave her: _**Shinano on steroids**_.

The seventh carrier of the Pearl Harbour attack ignored the battleship's snapped complaint. "I just learned from Destroyer Division Six that you adopted a human son from England. I wish to know if such a rumour was true or not so I can ensure I do not frighten the boy."

Hearing that, Nagato relaxed. Despite the tsunami of survivor's guilt that constantly wracked the fifth of the Yamato-class ships and the second of the class to be converted to an aircraft carrier, Yonaga was a true samurai, living her life to the words put down decades ago in the Imperial Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors and incorporating life lessons from the great masters such as Miyamoto Musashi. The very idea of harming an innocent human - to say anything of said human being a CHILD! - was totally wrong to "She Who Scared the Dark Ones", the shipgirl that no Abyssal had been able to twist to support their cause and the one that made the dark sea yōma scatter to the four winds wherever she sailed. "Arigatō, Yonaga-san," the battleship breathed out. "Hai, I did adopt a child, an orphan from Somerset named Harry Potter. He was being effectively abused by his caregivers when I was on exchange in England...!"

" _ **EXCUSE ME?!**_ "

That nearly made Nagato leap out of her clothes as an aura of pure FURY escaped Yonaga. "It's true, Yonaga-san," Mutsu immediately spoke up as a way of diverting the carrier's typhoon-like temper from her sistership. "From what our friends in England learned, the Dursley family didn't care to have a second child dumped on them like that; he was just left on their doorstep after Hallowe'en after his first birthday. There was some issues between Harry-chan's aunt Petunia and her late mother Lily; Nagato didn't get the whole story before she was allowed to return to the Naval District..." Here, she winked. "...even if she also made sure they were arrested for their abusing the food ration system." At Yonaga's arched eyebrow, the battleship added, "They were feeding all of Harry-chan's allotment to their son Dudley."

"Indeed...!"

Before anyone could say anything more, a thunderous roar like the winds whipping the oceans to Sea State Nine echoed from the direction of the Shrine of Infinite Salvation, built from the old ship's temple that had been at the forward end of Yonaga's old hangar deck which now served as the shrine for the lost crews of all the shipgirls at Yokosuka. As Mutsu and Nagato winced in anticipation of the oncoming verbal storm, Yonaga's only reaction was a slight smile.

* * *

 **Minutes before...**

"So you always bow to these gates, Fubuki-onēchan?"

"Hai, Harry-chan!" Fubuki declared before standing to attention to face the entrance of the Shrine through the torii gates whose wood had been donated by the Americans. "Do as we do!"

She, Mutsuki and Yūdachi clapped their hands once to openly announce to the kami of the shrine that they had come in peace to pray for them, then they bowed their head as they whispered a Buddhist lament to the dead of the Greater East Asia War, now united with their old fleet-mates from HIMS _Yonaga_ after their mortal remains had been recovered a year before from the ship's frozen wreckage in Siberia. Seeing that, Harry Potter nodded as he clapped his hands once, then bowed his head as he quietly prayed...before his eyes swelled with shamed tears, making the destroyers blink as their ears picked up the sucked in breath from Nagato's new son.

Why...?

Why would the spirits buried in this beautiful chapel want to bless a freak like him...?

"Hey, now! What's this?!"

Hearing that rough but familiar accent, Harry looked over before he gaped as a rough-looking elderly man with grey-streaked black hair and full beard and moustache came up, dressed in his normal dungaree trousers and blue turtleneck sweater with the stitched anchor over his chest. "Ah! Haddock-taisa!" Fubuki called out...before she gasped on seeing the tears in Harry's eyes. "Harry-chan!" Instantly, all three of them moved to comfort the weeping boy.

Seeing that, Archibald Haddock tensed. "I didn't do nothing...!"

"It's not your fault, Captain."

He jolted, then swung around. "Tintin! What are you doing here, old sod?!"

Everyone turned to look as the world-famous Belgian reporter and activist came up to join them, a snarling Milou following him. Seeing the white terrier's behaviour made Haddock blink before he focused on his old friend...then he jerked on seeing the seething look on Tintin's face. "Hey! What's wrong with you, Tintin?! Don't tell me you had a fight with your wife...!"

"No, I didn't!" Tintin hissed out before he stopped himself, then sighed. "I apologize, Captain. After I learned the truth about Miss Nagato's adopted son...!"

That made Harry tense. "You're taking me away from Mama...?" he moaned out.

"No!" Tintin firmly declared, which made Harry jolt. "Harry, you are NOT a freak!" he said as he fixed his dark eyes on Harry's green ones while Haddock and the destroyers all gasped in shock on hearing that statement. "Everything you were told by those FREAKS who raised you until Miss Nagato rescued you from that place is a lie! Do not ever believe whatever they told you!" He then smirked. "Believe me, what they did to you was a crime...and for the flimsiest excuse I've ever heard in all my years of reporting! Never, ever believe such a horrid thing like that again!" Tintin then focused on the destroyers before playfully winking at Harry. "After all, look at all the nice new friends you've made since you got here, Harry! Do they think you're some sort of 'freak'? Miss Fubuki? Miss Mutsuki? Miss Yūdachi?"

"NO!" the three destroyers snapped as one...with accompanying "poi" from Yūdachi, of course.

" _ **WHAT IS THIS?!**_ "

Tintin jolted, then leaned over to hiss something into Haddock's ear. The cargo boat skipper who was in charge of the Yokosuka docks blinked as he took that message in, then his face flushed as red as a ripe cherry as a look of cyclonic rage crossed his face.

Three...

Two...

One...

Zero!

" _ **RKRPXZKRMTFRZ...!**_ "

The whole of the Yokosuka Naval District quaked violently from that explosion of noise, which instantly brought both shipgirl and human support staff running towards the Shrine.

" _ **BILLIONS OF BILIOUS, BLUE, BLISTERING BARNACLES IN A THUNDERING TYPHOON! IF I EVER GET MY HANDS ON THOSE FANCY-DRESSED, FREELOADING, FAT-FACED FREAKS, I'LL STRING 'EM ALL UP ON THE YARDARM AT THE RANGES AND LET THE BATTLESHIPS OF THE DISTRICT USE THEM FOR TARGET PRACTICE!**_ "

Hearing Haddock then plunge into a litany of non-profane curses that was focused exactly on the Dursley family, Harry found himself gaping...before a hopeful smile crossed his face...

* * *

 **Early morning of the first of September, some years later...**

"Ah, there it is!" Tintin stated as he pointed to the small crowd of people gathered close to one section of Kings Cross Station in downtown London. "Just hidden between Platforms Nine and Ten, like Professor McGonagall promised us! C'mon, Harry! We can walk you out to the portal, then you're on your way to wonderful adventure to learn all about magic!"

Harry nodded as he followed the reporter and Captain Haddock towards where the other people - all in normal clothing; no doubt, they were parents of "muggleborns" who had come to see their children off to Hogwarts - had gathered. "Why couldn't Mum and the others come, Captain?"

"Shipgirls still scare the Beelzebub out of human magicals in this country, son," the old mariner answered. "The last time the fools in that 'ministry of morons'...!"

"Captain!" Tintin snapped.

"What?!" Haddock snarled. "It's what all the girls in Scapa Flow call them...!"

" _ **FREAK!**_ "

Harry jolted on hearing that bellowed voice, then tensed on hearing running feet coming his way. Before his would-be attacker could get close, he side-stepped as he calmly drew out the wakizashi secured to his hakama trousers...then spun around to trip the oncoming boy into crashing face-first into the floor nearby. Before the stocky boy could react, Harry was on him, kicking him hard to flip him onto his back, then he dropped down on the chest to pin the other boy, allowing his short sword to point right at the throat...before his jaw dropped.

" _ **YOU!**_ "

Instantly, Haddock and Tintin were at the snarling boy's side to prevent Harry from making his attacker a head shorter. As others moved to see what was going on, the green-eyed boy snarled before he remembered Yonaga-sensei's lessons, then calmed himself to await the other boy's recovery...then he broke free to backhand Dudley Dursley (as Tintin quickly recognized) across the cheek, sending the other boy sprawling once more on the floor. "Harry!" Haddock snapped. "What the devil's the matter with you, boy?! Are you trying to get into trouble?!"

"Look for yourself, Captain!" Harry snapped back as he waved at his cousin. "What did you call them back at the Shrine when Mister Tintin told you what happened to me before Mum saved me?!" He then sneered at Dudley, who was stunned to see that the boy he once chased after before those scary shipgirls came to ruin his perfect world had now become something he couldn't handle by himself. "The fancy-dressed, freeloading, fat-faced FREAK that STOLE FOOD from me!"

The crowd that had gathered around the scene all gasped on hearing that, then they gazed on Tintin for confirmation while someone - Marge Dursley, Tintin quickly recognized - moved to comfort the stunned Dudley while she tried to glare death at the brat whose presence in the life of her brother and sister-in-law had wrecked their lives thanks to those nosy shipgirls. The reporter smiled pleasantly at people in the crowd as he noted the presence of two magical law enforcement officers approach the area, both dressed passibly in normal clothing...though given the wider acceptance of magic by normal Britons these days thanks to the Abyssal War and the shipgirls, they could have easily showed up in full Auror robes and not earn a blink.

"So that's how it is, isn't it, Mister Dursley?" he asked, which made many of the crowd gasp on remembering the sensational articles written by the Belgian reporter some years ago about a bad case of ration fraud. "Your parents were called on their illegal behaviour by two very brave women who saw the injustice unleashed on your cousin when they did, then reported it to the proper authorities! All this time, you've never reflected on your actions towards young Harry here...then, when you saw him for the first time in five years, you decided to ATTACK HIM from BEHIND because he supposedly ruined your perfect life! Look around you, son!" He waved around them. "EVERYONE is suffering these days...and it's because of something far worse than what your parents couldn't BEGIN to comprehend befell Harry's parents! Don't you feel ashamed?!"

"Why should I care about a freak like him?!" Dudley snapped back.

"Why are you doing this, you monster?!" Marge then challenged. "Haven't you done enough...?!"

"'Freak', huh...?"

That was Harry, who was glaring death at his cousin and the latter's aunt, making both of them tremble in shock on seeing the sheer loathing he felt at them and noting he wasn't scared to make it known. "What does that make you two?!" he then said as he sneered at Marge, noting how obese she still was. "Gods! You look like a bloody Abyssal with all the fat you've got on you, you drunken, duck-billed platypus! What did you do?! Go on a Korean diet and start eating your DOGS, you great, flat-footed grizzly bear?!" As Marge gasped in shock at such a rolling insult from the younger man, Harry then sneered at Dudley. "Gods above! We're got TWO great, flat-footed grizzly bears here, Captain!" he then exclaimed as many of the crowd started to snicker and several of Harry's would-be peers from Hogwarts were staring in awe at the Boy Who Lived as he verbally ripped apart his old tormentors. "They're probably stealing food from other kids by the looks of them!" Harry then accused, which earned the Dursleys intensive looks from the crowd, which made Marge fluster in outrage at being called out like that in public. "I though rationing was still on even if Mum's friends here in Britain are doing their damn best to make sure people are fed! Someone aught to drag you loathsome brutes down to the local station to see to it you're not taking food away from innocent BABIES!"

"Matter of fact, we'll do that, Mister Potter!"

That made Marge gasp on seeing the freaky-looking young woman in the hip clothing and the neon-pink hair come up, flashing identification making her as part of Scotland Yard. "See here!" she then thundered. "It's not my poor, suffering Dudley who's caused this! It's this...!"

 _KLONK!_

Marge dropped to the floor thanks to a slight blow from a smiling battlecruiser who gladly made herself available for the occasion. "Oh, dear! I hope I didn't hurt her too much, Constable!"

Nymphadora Tonks smirked as she and Kingsley Shacklebolt came up to deal with the dazed dog breeder. "We can handle it from here, Miss Hood," she promised Hood.

Seeing that his aunt was about to be arrested, Dudley snarled as he tried to charge the pretty auror...only to be picked up by a scowling battlecruiser. "Now, mind your Ps and Qs, young man!" Hood stated as Dudley found himself staring at her stern face, the ghostly images of her rigging appearing as all four main turrets swung his way. Seeing that made him croak in horror as he realized he had no one around to protect him. "Let's get down to the station now and see to it you're not doing as your loathsome parents did to poor Harry years ago!"

With that, the two aurors and the battlecruiser headed off amid a roar of cheers. Seeing that, Harry smirked as he straightened his kimono and hakama before moving with dignity over to the hidden portal to Platform 9 3/4. Watching him approach, a dark-skinned boy then asked, "Hey, Harry! How the heck do you know _**Hood**_ of all the shipgirls in the Royal Navy?!"

"Not to mention Mister Tintin and Captain Haddock?!" a bushy-haired girl then demanded.

"Thank my adopted mum," Harry said with a polite bow of his head. "Nagato."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

" _ **YOU WERE ADOPTED BY NAGATO?! THE SECRETARY SHIP OF THE KANMUSU?!**_ " Hermione Granger shrilled.

Harry ducked as the dentists' daughter from Crawley began bombarding questions at the speed of an American shipgirl's forty millimetre anti-aircraft cannons as Tintin and Haddock shared a smirk...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	10. Vignette: When Yonaga Teaches Harry

_**NOTE:**_ _Based on the_ Harry Potter _/_ Kantai Collection _vignettes written by Harry Leferts at the Sufficient Velocity forum. Including characters/situations from_ The Seventh Carrier _by Peter Albano and_ Mahō Sensei Negima _by Akamatsu Ken. This story is not part of the continuity as my entries for the "Things No Longer Allowed Involving Shipgirls" list at the SpaceBattles forum. This short also contains a quote taken from_ Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone _, written by Joanna Rowling._

* * *

 **Yokosuka, one day...**

"So he is magical?"

"Hai, Yonaga-san," the man with the cropped silver hair, glasses and five o'clock shadow in the white business suit said as he bowed his head respectfully to the seventh carrier of Operation Z. "Harry Potter is practically an icon to the wand magicals of Britain; they're not the same type of magicals as my friend Nagi Springfield," Takahata Takamachi stated. "When he was just a babe, he survived the use of the Killing Curse, a dark attack that does as it says. As to the 'how', I can't say...but seeing that scar on Harry's head, I think his late mother Lily made use of some protective runes to keep him safe from the man seeking to kill him."

Hearing that made the attack carrier's eyes flare in outrage. "And where exactly is this magical yakuza who would dare bring harm on a _**child**_?!" she snarled.

Takamachi tried not to flinch from that burst of anger from Yonaga. Gods only knew, kanmusu like his host were powerful beings, even more so than some of the most dreaded magical monsters like a nundu or a dragon...which really helped matters a lot given that normal human magicals couldn't handle the more powerful Abyssals as recent events around the world demonstrated. Yet Yonaga was a whole scale worse than the average kanmusu the English teacher at the Mahora Academy/field agent of His Imperial Majesty's Magical Commandery of Kantō had met in the last few years. Realizing that this shipgirl samurai lived up to her reputation as the "angry one" among the dark sea yōma that had pretty much put paid to the whole International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy in the last decade, he sighed before sipping the tea Shōkaku had made for him; the elder of her class of armoured carriers had come to Yonaga's room to serve as the larger shipgirl's moral support in this situation...especially since it concerned Nagato's adopted son, whom even the seventh carrier had taken a liking to. "We don't know. According to the Ministry of Magic in Britain, Voldemort - that's his battle name; we don't know his real name - well, he disappeared and was reported dead after he tried to kill Harry after killing his parents. The scene was examined by Albus Dumbledore, who is a famous hero in the eyes of the British and had been helping put Voldemort down before he attacked the Potter family."

"What was his goal?" Yonaga stated, glad that she had inherited her late admiral's unquenchable thirst for knowledge and his ability to sort through that knowledge to come up with the necessary battle plans to make a mission successful; that skill had easily reduced all the damage her sister kanmusu had taken in the years since she had been summoned back to the Heavenly Sovereign's service. "For Harry-san's sake most of all, Takamachi-san, I need to understand everything about how he wound up in the care of abusive _**monsters**_ before Nagato-san was able to rescue him and bring him to Japan after her exchange in England was done."

Takamachi smiled...

* * *

 **Meanwhile, over in Britain...**

"You must be joking!"

"I am not joking about this, Headmaster," the aged goblin stated as he stared in amusement at the flustered "leader of the light" seated before him. "Two of the great sea angels who are now protecting us all from the ravages of the Abyssals discovered that young Harry Potter was being effectively starved by his caregivers, then rescued him from that environment. One of them was kind enough to adopt young Harry as her son, then took him to Japan..."

" _ **JAPAN?!**_ " Albus Dumbledore shrieked.

"Yes," Ragnok said with a toothy smile. "A country that is totally beyond your reach in your current position inside the International Confederation of Wizards courtesy of the Magical Imperial Rescript released by their Heavenly Sovereign that summoned their last Mahō-Shōgun back to duty to help defend themselves from the Abyssals and summon the kantai musume to fight once more to protect their land, plus spread the knowledge of how to summon others like them back to serve all their allies. Atop that, because of their unique nature, the sea angels have been granted equal rights to magical humanoids thanks to the effective use of magical executive orders issued by the various heads of state worldwide after the magical ministries worldwide failed so spectacularly to deal with those monsters. You know of the Magical Royal Proclamation that was issued by your Queen concerning them two years ago."

Albus winced on being reminded of that. The arrival of the mysterious shipgirls had caused a furor in the International Confederation of Wizards when their existence came to be known MONTHS after the first of those living warrior spirits had been given mortal form and sent forth to defend their homelands. Battered and humiliated by the total lack of success when it came to putting the Abyssals down, the Ministry of Magic under Millicent Bagnold tried to have the shipgirls declared magical constructs and regulated properly; given that such beings were totally immune to things like compulsion charms and obliviation spells, something had to be done before the Statute of Secrecy was rendered totally defunct, especially given the corresponding discovery that many muggles were now totally immune to such charms thanks to countless applications of same by the various obliviator squads. Before such a move to get any sort of steam, a virtual depth charge was dropped on the Wizengamot by the _**Queen**_...who had been informed by SOMEONE of her ultimate power to control the Ministry of Magic due to the fact that the basic magical constitution of the United Kingdom contained a loyalty clause to the Crown.

The Queen had used it...

...as did all her counterparts elsewhere.

As Albus had bitterly come to realize over the last year and more, magical societies worldwide were within a hair's breadth of being fully exposed to the muggles...

"Is Mister Potter being well-cared for, Chief Director?"

Albus jolted as he gazed on Severus Snape. "He indeed is, Professor Snape," Ragnok stated. "His adopted mother is the Lady Nagato, the executive assistant to the director of the Fleet Shipgirl Project in Japan, Admiral Gotō Isoroku. Given the obvious differences between young Harry and Lady Nagato, the Kantō Magical Association was asked by His Imperial Majesty to monitor this matter. We were informed of it out of courtesy since the Potter family wealth is managed from this institution. I'm pleased to report that young Harry is recovering quite well from what his former caregivers did to him. Many of the sea angels based in Yokosuka help care for him without even being requested by Lady Nagato. We just learned that the Lady Yonaga has now taken interest in Harry." At the visiting humans' curious look, the goblin grinned. "The Abyssals very respectfully call Lady Yonaga the 'Angry One'," he then purred out.

As Albus blanched on hearing that such a dark being was close to the only real means of destroying Voldemort halfway around the world, his companions both relaxed. "Thank Merlin!" Minerva McGonagall breathed out before she glared at her boss. "I warned you, Albus! I warned you the Dursleys were the worst type of muggles, but you didn't listen! It wouldn't surprise me that Miss Nagato will refuse the invitation to Hogwarts! And if you try any of the shenanigans you've pulled in the past, I'll demand an honour duel myself for your head!"

"You can't hide from your mistakes anymore, Albus," Severus added. "Chief Director, is Miss Nagato aware of Mister Potter's being a wizard? He will need to be prepared before he returns to Britain - IF he returns, of course! - so that he won't flounder as most muggleborns do."

"The Lady Yonaga took note of several bouts of accidental magic young Harry experienced when the Abyssals tried to attack her home base, then contacted the Kantō Magical Association. Master Nagi Springfield's friend Takahata Takamachi briefed her on the whole issue, then she informed the Lady Nagato. Arrangements have been made to tutor young Harry in magic."

"NO!" Albus blurted out. "Harry needs a normal life! He must be taken away from...!"

A large cinder block smashed down on his head, knocking him out! Silence then fell before the stunned headmaster's friends gaped at their host. "Um...?" Minerva began.

Ragnok smiled. "Lady Yonaga's late commander, Admiral Fujita Hiroshi, was a squib, Professor. When he was confirmed as dead and since he had no living relatives magical or not, the magic of his family vault then declared the Lady Yonaga the proper heiress to his family wealth. She paid us to do that to Dumbledore if he decided to go on his stupid 'greater good' idiocy...!"

"So she's aware of everything?" Severus asked. "As is Miss Nagato?"

"They all are," the goblin banker warned. "If you wish young Harry to come to Hogwarts, you have work to do, Professors. I'm sure this summer would be a good time to visit Yokosuka."

The transfiguration professor and the potions master nodded...

* * *

 **Yokosuka, a month later...**

"So Harry-chan is seen as a hero to your people, McGonagall-sensei?"

"Yes, he is," Minerva stated as she and her fellow heads-of-house followed Fubuki towards the dorm building where the battleships - and one human magical boy - currently resided. "In a way, I can understand Albus' reasons for putting him with muggles; the insanity that followed the downfall of You Know Who was quite intense. But to believe that no one watched over the poor lad after that happened...!" She shook her head as Pomona Sprout squeezed her shoulder in a show of support. "Thank Merlin for Miss Nagato and Miss Mutsu at least!"

"How have you all accepted him being here?" Filius Flitwick then asked. "Being the living spirits of warships lost during the recent world war, your experiences...!"

Fubuki smiled. "Oh, he's been wonderful to all of us! Helping out here at the naval district even without asking! He even found my last captain's sword and purchased it from the people who pulled it out of my wreck some years ago, then gave it to me on my commissioning day, purchased with funds he earned himself and not with the allowance Nagato-san gives him!"

"What of his training in magical arts?" Pomona wondered.

"Sadly, not as much as your so-called 'purebloods' would effectively receive from their parents before their invitations to schools like Hogwarts, Frau Professor," Prinz Eugen answered; the heavy cruiser had gone with the special destroyer to the main gates to welcome the delegation from Britain. "After all, those brave warriors in the various Magical Associations here in Japan are working overtime to help protect the coastlines from Abyssal attacks." She then winked. "We're all contributing to his education since he would be a perfect target for any of those monsters who followed that Voldemort fellow..." - she tried not to smirk as the visiting magicals winced on hearing that name - "...if they learn he's here in Japan."

The four heads-of-house nodded. With the revelation that the Queen was now more than willing to exercise Her Royal Prerogative on the Ministry of Magic in case they stepped out of line in the future, radical conservatives such as those who had "been victims of the Imperius Curse" were becoming more agitated by the day thanks to long-buried fears concerning what normals - who outnumbered magicals considerably even now and had a lot of technology AND the shipgirls at their side! - would do to magicals should the secret of their power be exposed worldwide. Even if Voldemort was gone, his followers wouldn't need much to set them off again; Severus had been keeping a weather eye on them for Albus and he had briefed his fellow heads-of-house about the issue after that fateful meeting in Gringotts before the end of the school year.

And given that thrice-damned prophecy...!

"Ah! There's Harry-chan with Yonaga-sempai and Kaga-san now!" Fubuki then declared, pointing.

The visitors from Britain looked...then gaped on seeing the young man in the kyūdō-ka's kimono and hakama standing on the archery range, a sansun-zume hankyū in hand as he aimed an arrow at a target several dozen metres away. A quick glance at it showed that Harry had struck the target on several occasions. Watching this from nearby were two women in similar uniforms, one tall and well-built one in green-and-black, the other in a white-and-black uniform with a short skirt in lieu of hakama trousers, her legs covered by black thigh-high stockings. Seeing Harry Potter relax himself as he concentrated on his shot, Lily Evans' childhood friend could only shudder as his mixed feelings for the only child of his late rival James Potter surged up...

Severus then paled as a pair of story grey eyes fixed on him, making him seem as small as a freshman student in the face the typhoon fury that was the Seventh Carrier of Operation Z. He then jolted as Harry cast his shot, the arrow streaking through the air to punch through the target almost to the fletchings. "Kanteki..." the brown-haired shorter shipgirl said with an approving nod as she exchanged looks with her companion. "Do it again, Harry-san."

"Hai, Sensei," Harry said as he straightened himself, then took a deep breath before he went through all the motions to prepare his bow, then draw an arrow and aim on target...

...just as a roar bellowed from the nearby bay, making all the people there tense as something came surging up to move towards a shrieking quartet of destroyers now on the nearby beach. Before anyone could do anything, Harry spun around, then charged, racing to the nearby cliff to see what appeared to be a destroyer moving to force poor Hibiki into the water. As Yonaga and Kaga sprinted to grab their own daikyū to send out a wave of aircraft down to bomb the thing out of existence, Harry notched the arrow into the bow, took aim, then released it.

A mortal croak of pain escaped the Abyssal as the bolt punched through her forehead!

As the creature collapsed dead in the water, the members of Destroyer Division Six all spun around to see who saved them, then they gaped before they raced up the hill to bowl Harry down with hugs and kisses. As the poor boy sputtered out in childish embarrassment at that show of thanks from Hibiki and her sisters, the visitors from Hogwarts all breathed out in relief. "After seeing that, I now have hope for the future," Severus commented to them all.

"We'll have to warn him about the thestrals," Filius stated.

"Gryffindor!" Minerva then piped up.

That made the other heads-of-house spin on the deputy headmistress. "Bite your tongue, Minerva!" Pomona snapped. "That was pure Hufflepuff there!"

As the visitors from England launched into a spat as to where Harry would be sorted when he came to Hogwarts, the shipgirls standing there felt sweat in their hair. "It's a good thing you had everything about Harry-san investigated, Yonaga-san," Kaga noted.

"Ja!" Prinz Eugen moaned out. "If they're normally like that...!"

Yonaga sighed. "Well done, Harry-san!" she called out as Harry came up the hill with Hibiki and her sisters. "For such a wonderful performance in saving your friends, you'll get a special treat tonight!" Seeing Harry's green eyes light up in anticipation, the seventh carrier winked. "Make sure you are ready for bed when you are done your lessons with Warspite-san!"

Hearing that, Harry bowed deep. "Hai, Sensei!"

* * *

 **The next morning...**

"YONAGA-SAN!"

Yonaga perked before she could sip her tea, then she looked over her shoulder as a shuddering Nagato stormed up to her at flank speed. "Whatever is the problem, Nagato-san?"

The battleship stopped before the unflappable carrier, then she crossed her arms. "Yonaga-san, you did agree with me that Harry-chan needs to be properly taught to prepare himself for life, especially since he will soon be heading back to England to attend Hogwarts?!"

"Indeed I did, Nagato-san. Whatever is the issue?"

Seeing that Yonaga wasn't getting it, Nagato screamed out, " _ **WHAT PERSUADED YOU TO READ THE**_ **CH** **Ū** **SHINGURA** _ **AS A**_ **BEDTIME STORY** _ **, YONAGA-SAN?! HARRY-CHAN'S NOT READY FOR THAT!**_ "

As many of the people in the mess hall gaped in shock on noting that the seventh carrier had done THAT to Nagato's adopted son, the carrier in question sipped her tea. "It is necessary, Nagato-san," she calmly stated, keeping her voice stern as people hushed up to listen to her. "As Severus-san and his co-workers from Hogwarts can confirm, the society that Harry-san was born in is corrupt beyond reason and mired in a feudal governing system that has effectively blinded all who reside in it to the bitter truths of the outside world. By letting Harry-san learn the _Ch_ _ū_ _shingura_ and understanding its deepest moral tale, he will be ready to unleash the vengeance he rightly deserves and obtain justice for the loss of his parents at the hands of that yōma Voldemort and his supporters, not to mention the effective loss of his godfather, his god-brother's effective loss of his own parents and all others who fell in that war! After all, would it not be the greatest justice of all for Harry-san to tear down that which allowed a yōma like Voldemort to rise in the first place and flourish like he did?"

Nagato stared at her as others nodded. At their guest table nearby, Severus blinked, then he smiled. "Definitely Slytherin," the potions master mused before sipping his tea.

Minerva, Pomona and Filius all gaped at him...

* * *

 **Near the the end of Harry's first year at Hogwarts...**

"...see what I've become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another, a mere parasite! Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own...!"

Staring at the two-faced monstrosity before him, Harry seemed almost at peace as he relaxed himself on the stairs that led to the chamber where the Mirror of Erised had been placed. He was in his normal non-class clothing of a kimono and hakama; it had earned him some ribbing from his peers and elders, but he had ignored such comments. Of course, wearing such baggy clothing gave him the ability to hide a lot of handy things for situations like this.

As the beast that had killed his parents years before was about to learn the HARD way...!

" _ **ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!**_ " Voldemort shrilled from the back of Quirinus Quirrel's head.

"Not really," Harry then quipped, which made the possessed defence teacher jerk at such a flippant tone from the Boy Who Lived. "Much that I do understand it's considered holy writ in the Villain's Handbook that one must learn how to properly monologue like that, it also gives people who have to put down a half-blood yōma like you the chance to save the day!"

" _ **HOW DARE YOU IMPLY I'M A HALF-BLOOD...?!**_ "

"Of course you're a half-blood, Mister Riddle...!"

" _ **DON'T CALL ME THAT! I AM VOLDEMORT...!**_ "

"Oh, that's right! You anagramized your name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' into 'I am Lord Voldemort'! And the school records from the time, not to mention Mister Hagrid, can confirm that you are indeed a half-blood with a muggle father and a staleblood mother who's only claim to fame was that she was good with making Amorentia." As Voldemort howled on hearing that slight against his late mother, Harry then crossed his arms, slipping his fingers into the open sleeves of his kimono. "How young were you when you did that, by the way?! Five?! It's so immature...!"

" _ **HOW DARE YOU?! YOU MOCK LORD VOLDEMORT?! KILL HIM, QUIRREL! KILL HIM NOW!**_ "

"Oh, dear," Harry mock-gasped in fear. "I'm about to be killed! May I make one last request?"

That caused the dark lord to jolt. "What...?"

"Oh, I just like for you to meet my friend!" Harry said...

...as he pulled out a miniaturized multiple-barrel anti-submarine weapon lashed to one arm; such had been a present from a British Flower-class corvette in celebration of his birthday and his entrance to Hogwarts. As Voldemort blinked in confusion, Harry smiled.

"Mister Hedgehog," Harry declared before barking out, " _ **MATCH BEARINGS AND SHOOT!**_ "

The explosion that followed wrecked the Mirror and destroyed the back wall and floor of the chamber that had been used to store the device...which was anchored against the Hufflepuff common room on the other side. As the badly wounded Quirrel was forced through the hole made by Harry's weapon, the students there screamed in shock...before they howled in fear on seeing the nose-less monstrosity on the back of the professor's head. " _ **IT'S YOU KNOW WHO!**_ " Hannah Abbott cried out as older students moved to shield their peers with protective charms.

As the younger students howled in fright on seeing Voldemort effectively alive and well, Harry ran in, then bellowed out as he dived onto Quirrel's back, his fists cocked as he moved to ruthlessly pummel that face with his fists. Of course, the contact allowed a blood-sealed shield charm to kick into play, which made Quirrel's whole body burst into fire. Harry quickly back-flipped clear as the defence professor was reduced to ash, allowing a dark vapour to appear. Screaming in outrage at how he had been smashed down like that, Voldemort lunged towards the brat that had defied him two times, moving to zero in on his curse scar.

As people screamed on seeing Voldemort lunge into Harry, the dark lord then gargled as he felt the blood protection once more move to shove him away from the boy.

But it was long enough for a message to be sent...

 _Know my vengeance, Riddle!_ the Boy Who Lived screamed at him as he felt consciousness fade as people shouted in the background to get help. _I just exposed you to the Hufflepuffs, who will tell the world you're still 'alive'! You know how much influence they have! But I won't stop at revealing that you didn't die all those years ago! I will show the world what a liar you are! Reveal how much you tricked your staleblood supporters into bloodying this sick society of ours when they should have killed you for your 'impure' blood! And then rip this whole rotten, diseased mess down so that you and all who followed you will have NOTHING...!_

With a howl of outrage at such a threat, Voldemort vanished from Hogwarts.

Harry then blinked as he gazed apologetically at the others. "S-s-sorry about th-that...!"

He dropped to a dead faint on the floor as older students lunged to help him.

* * *

In the days and weeks that followed as news of Voldemort's "survival" rang through the press and was echoed through the streets of wizarding Britain no matter how much the rich supporters of Cornelius Fudge tried to hush it all up, many of the people who had been in the lounge that day found themselves wondering why a content smile had been on Harry's face...

 _ **Fin...!**_

* * *

 _ **WRITER'S NOTE:**_ The **_Ch_ _ū_ _shingura_** (literally "Treasury of Loyal Retainers") is the fictionalized account of the story of the **Forty-seven Rōnin** who sought to avenge the forced suicide of their lord in 1701 by striking down the man who effectively had the poor fellow killed two years later. The theme of the Forty-seven is a constant recurring one in _The Seventh Carrier_ and its sequel books, so Yonaga would definitely know the story and understand its meaning.


	11. Vignette: Canada's First Shipgirl

_**MUSICAL NOTE:**_ Heart of Oak _(1760), composed by William Boyce, lyrics by David Garrick._

 _ **NOTE:**_ _This short includes situations from_ Harry Potter _, created by Joanna Rowling. This story is also influenced by the_ Harry Potter _/_ Kantai Collection _shorts written by Harry Leferts at the Sufficient Velocity forms. This short serves as a background story to all my writings concerning Canadian shipgirls._

* * *

 **Ottawa, Rideau Hall...**

" _ **I PROTEST THIS!**_ "

"Protest this all you want, but you have no right anymore to direct our response to this current threat! Given the abject failure of your teams to deal with the Abyssals - to say anything of your paranoia concerning keeping your precious secrecy statute intact when it's become more than obvious to the world that magic exists! - we'll be handling this situation!" With that, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau then pulled out a rolled sheet of parchment to show the flustered Minister of Magical Affairs, turning it to reveal the wax sigil keeping the ribbon held in place. The sigil bearing the image of the Great Seal of the Dominion of Canada, it bordered with magical runes that immediately told the flustered wizard before the son of one of the Dominion's greatest political leaders that Trudeau had gone straight to the Queen.

"That's against the Statute...!" he sputtered out.

Staring at the flustered native of Edmonton, Trudeau sighed. "Professor, you forget that the Separation Acts of 1692 and 1867 contain loyalty clauses to the Crown, which allowed those people in Parliament back in Britain aware of what your predecessors wanted to do with the Statute to better accept it being put into effect to protect both sides. And for the most part, the Statute _**has**_ been honoured by your people. But these things that just wrecked the Navy and saw dozens of coastal villages destroyed are too powerful for your people to fight. We have to do this together without panicking about Statute violations or forcing too much work on the Obliviators. How many magicals could have been saved if Army snipers had been there to help kill those things while they were trying to kill innocent people? Believe me, the word is getting out...but thanks to what the Japanese have just discovered, there's a way out for all of us." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, but the current state of relations between magical and normal worldwide has changed. Most normal people have heard of the shipgirls and they're fully accepting of them given how much work they've done to open the sea lanes and protect coastal towns. Could you imagine how the public would react if they learned of how much your people, especially those in 'W' Division, have sacrificed for them?"

That made the minister gape before he felt the squeeze of his chief law enforcement officer's hand on his shoulder, then he reached for the parchment. Opening it, he gazed at the words written there that would have members of the Canadian Wizengamot in Québec City spitting in outrage at having their power to legislate over magical affairs ripped from them and handed to the Department of National Defence (on behalf of the Royal Canadian Navy), the Department of Fisheries and Oceans (for the Canadian Coast Guard) and the Department of Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness (for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police)...before his eyes and his magic focused on the four words that ended the long statement that would ensure no interference from Canadian magicals of all stripes when it came to the country's soon-to-be reborn warships...

 _ **La Reine le Veult.**_

The Queen wills it.

Thanks to the prefaces of the original Separation Act of 1682 and the follow-on Separation Act in Right of the Dominion of Canada of 1867, there was no denying the wishes of the Crown.

Nodding slowly, he rolled up the parchment...before a relieved smile crossed his face. "This actually makes my job a lot easier," he confessed. "Once they hear this..."

Trudeau nodded; he had been told by his predecessor how much Wizengamot interference in the way that the Ministry of Magical Affairs conducted its operations had hampered a lot before the appeal was made to Buckingham Palace to drop a Magical Royal Proclamation in Right of Canada and shut the Wizengamot up once and for all time about this. "Fine. We should have the first shipgirl summoned soon; the work on the chamber in Cornwallis is almost finished."

"Why Cornwallis?" the chief superintendent of "W" Division of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police - the only magical law enforcement agency that made their officers train alongside their normal counterparts at "Depot" Division in Regina; doing such had always had the leaders of the International Confederation of Wizards tearing their beards out at the potential Statute threats even if the people who had set that project into motion in 1920 had done it to prevent the type of insane arrogance developing among Canadian magicals as had developed over the years in Britain and other nations - then asked. "You had the base shut down in the 1990s..."

"It is the traditional training depot of the Navy," the Governor General cut in from his seat at the head of the reception room where medals and decorations were awarded by the Dominion's _de facto_ head-of-state. "Many of those brave sailors who sailed in their corvettes to escort the convoys to Europe went through basic training there. Given that the Japanese focused on bringing their Imperial Navy back as shipgirls, we decided to follow suit."

The visiting magicals nodded...

* * *

 **Canadian Forces Base Cornwallis in Nova Scotia, a month later...**

"So it's ready?"

"Yes, Admiral Harlan, it's ready," the Japanese scientist who had flown to Canada to help with the Dominion's own kanmusu project affirmed with a nod, though he was gazing at the devices built in the old base's massive drill hall with a touch of trepidation. "Still..."

Hearing that warning tone in the man's voice, Rear Admiral Francis Drake Harlan chuckled as he stood up from his chair to gaze upon the device that would be the Dominion's salvation from those dark sea spirits that had risen up years ago to ravage humanity at will both on the oceans and in countless shore villages, towns and cities all over the world. He had been the Commander of the Canadian Atlantic Fleet when said fleet had been wrecked to the last ship in the Battle of Sable Island two years ago; the few survivors of that battle had been saved when Royal Canadian Air Force CF-188 Hornets from 425e Escadron in Bagotville had dropped fuel air bombs upon the Abyssals to literally burn them to death, allowing CH-124 Sea Kings and CH-148 Cyclones from 423 Squadron in Shearwater, plus the Canadian Coast Guard, to rescue survivors. Ever since that time, the magical "W" Division of the Mounties had been pretty much holding the line in concert with the Air Force and whatever Army units could be spared for coastal defence.

"Professor, our native mysticism is a little different than yours," the native of Tadoussac in Québec stated. He was a twenty-five year veteran of the Royal Canadian Navy, a MARS officer by training who had commanded everything the senior service of the Canadian Forces had put to sea along with the normal shore and staff college assignments. He was now in a new position at Navy Headquarters in Ottawa which had been given a traditional title in light of what was now being planned: Flag Officer Shipgirl Forces. "Since the First Nations, the Métis and the Inuit have shed blood in dealing with the Abyssals, they wanted to help out. And with that Magical Royal Proclamation having shut up the stuffed shirts in the Wizengamot in Québec City, we can finally get our fighting forces back into the game and get those things away from us."

Hearing that, the other man nodded. "Well, I think it's time..."

With that, he walked over to the main monitoring station, put up on a raised platform at the starboard end of the drill hall. The summoning chamber here was built as an inclined ramp into the enchanted basin and not with ladders at one end to force the shipgirl to climb her way out of the pool to report. Milling about on the stands set off to both sides of the summoning pool were sailors, many of them survivors of the Battle of Sable Island who had been convalescing in Halifax before they were asked to help restore Cornwallis back as a training base. Also there were members of the Stadacona Band of the Royal Canadian Navy, who would play the music that would hopefully entice the ship spirits in That Place where they resided to come back as human beings. Of course, given the additional magical help needed to get this unit operational, native mystics were there from many of the First Nations as well as the Inuit. One of them was currently holding a beautiful eagle staff that had been prepared by all the eastern communities...and blessed in the blood of the survivors of Sabre Island; said staff would be gifted in perpetuity to Maritime Forces Atlantic for use by the soon-to-return shipgirls.

 _ **Blood magic...**_

The Europeans had shied from using that even now that they had been forced at gunpoint to back off from harassing the navies of NATO as they tried to summon shipgirls back to duty.

If it worked here...!

"Are we ready?!" Harlan then called out.

Everyone perked on hearing that command voice, then everyone stood. Harlan's old fleet chief petty officer and the first base coxswain for Cornwallis in twenty years, Chief Petty Officer 1st Class Paul Mason, took his place by the alarm klaxon, a master seaman ready to stand by as the boatswain's mate for the summoning. "You ready there, Chief?" Harlan asked.

"Begging the admiral's pardon, but this is seriously crazy, sir," CPO1 Mason muttered.

"We're in crazy times, Chief."

"Aye, sir!"

Glancing around the room once more, the man who had been asked to lead Canada's shipgirl project took a deep breath, then he looked at the director of the Stadacona Band. "The medley we chose at the start, Commander," he then bade, getting a nod from the music officer as he turned to raise his baton and his bandsmen readied their instruments. As the training chief petty officer barked for divisions to stand to, the boatswain's mate raised his call to his lips. With a quick nod to the Mi'kmaq elder who lead the native mystics there, Harlan then stood to attention. "SOUND ACTION STATIONS, CHIEF!" he barked out as he saluted the pool.

"AYE, SIR!" CPO1 Mason barked out as the boatswain's mate piped the still.

A loud klaxon thundered through the drill hall as the technicians powered up the machine...

* * *

 _ **Somewhere...**_

 _It was so quiet._

 _So peaceful._

 _A perfect environment for a warship that had long earned her eternal rest._

 _She was the last survivor of a class of 267 warships built on whaler-type hulls originally meant for coastal patrol work. But thanks to the desperate situation that had befallen the Allies courtesy of the Nazi blitzkrieg that had made France submit in 1940 and exposed the whole of the Atlantic to the U-Boat menace, the Flower-class corvettes had been forced into ocean convoy escort duty, sailing over the most dangerous piece of maritime real estate on Earth time and time again to get supplies and personnel across from North America to ensure Britain could remain alive and active against the forces of Adolf Hitler. Those who had green maple leaves painted on their smokestacks had done their duties by the skin of their teeth despite the systematic prejudice towards the sailors of the Dominion by American and British war planners who strove to get their ships upgraded and modified first to press the fight..._

 _And they had won._

 _After thirty convoys escorted across the Atlantic, she had been paid off and placed in reserve...but had been reborn years later as a research vessel for the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, granted a new pendant number as she was seen still as a naval auxiliary and manned by a civilian crew. For years, she worked on the Atlantic, helping her new masters perform their duties until she was finally retired, old and worn, in 1982, then laid up once more..._

 _Until she was purchased by a memorial group and turned into a museum ship._

 _The last of her kind to still be afloat._

 _The last of her kind to exist..._

 _Until..._

 _What happened...?_

 _She still didn't know..._

 _One day, it had been peaceful..._

 _Then..._

 _Then..._

 _ **ACTION STATIONS!**_

 _Her eyes, proper Navy blue, snapped open as the klaxon blared over her..._

 _ **ACTION STATIONS!**_

 _She shuddered as she felt machinery come to life inside her..._

 _ **ALL PERSONNEL, MAN YOUR BATTLE STATIONS!**_

 _Machinery that was familiar...yet different..._

 _She then gasped in horror as a cold feeling washed over her._

 _The klaxon roared again..._

 _ **ACTION STATIONS!**_

 _She felt the screams of sailors who had died at their posts._

 _Heard the wails of her sister ship spirits, reborn as modern frigates, as they were torn from their mortal hulls and sent once more to This Place to await the call again..._

 _ **ACTION STATIONS!**_

 _She felt the support of others born after the war as they gave her new equipment._

 _In This Place, she got an upgrade her designers could never imagine she could receive._

 _ **ALL PERSONNEL, MAN YOUR BATTLE STATIONS!**_

 _She then nodded as she felt something cloak her spirit..._

 _...just as a familiar march past echoed in the background._

Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer,  
To add something more to this wonderful year;  
To honour we call you, as freemen not slaves,  
For who are so free as the sons of the waves?

 _...the drums of war being beaten by native musicians._

Heart of Oak are our ships,  
Jolly Tars are our men,  
We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady!  
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

 _...the droning cries of warriors from many cultures calling out to her to return._

We ne'er see our foes but we wish them to stay,  
They never see us but they wish us away;  
If they run, why we follow, and run them ashore,  
For if they won't fight us, what can we do more?

 _Why...?_

Heart of Oak are our ships,  
Jolly Tars are our men,  
We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady!  
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

 _Hadn't she done enough...?_

They say they'll invade us these terrible foe,  
They frighten our women, our children, our beaus,  
But if should their flat-bottoms, in darkness set oar,  
Still Britons they'll find to receive them on shore.

 _She then tensed as memories of reincarnated sisters came back to her..._

Heart of Oak are our ships,  
Jolly Tars are our men,  
We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady!  
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

 _Information about a new enemy..._

We still make them feel and we still make them flee,  
And drub them ashore as we drub them at sea,  
Then cheer up me lads with one heart let us sing,  
Our soldiers and sailors, our statesmen and King.

 _Human sized, born of and mutated from malingering spirits of people who had died on the high seas in any sort of violent manner, lusting for vengeance on mankind..._

Heart of Oak are our ships,  
Jolly Tars are our men,  
We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady!  
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

 _A modern navy - No! MANY modern navies! - had fallen like wheat on the Prairies cut down by a brutal scythe, leaving the coastlines defenceless..._

Heart of Oak are our ships,  
Jolly Tars are our men,  
We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady!  
We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.

 _And Britain was isolated once more..._

 _As was Japan, once foe and now large trading partner..._

 _As was Canada..._

 _No!_

 _She felt the strength of the steamers built in the 1950s and 1960s, the new Tribals who came to life in the 1970s and the namesakes of several of her own sisters built in the 1980s flood her._

 _A weapons refit like NOTHING she had got at Galveston back in 1944 now cloaked her._

 _But..._

 _Could she do this...?_

 _No!_

 _She had done her duty once._

 _She would do it again._

 _No matter what odds were against her._

 _As would all her sisters._

 _This time...the Royal Canadian Navy would show the world how it was done._

 _And they would win it this time._

 _ **Ready Aye Ready...!**_

* * *

 **Cornwallis...**

"WE GOT SOMETHING!"

Harlan's head snapped over at the monitoring technician, who was gaping at the readings coming in. Just ahead of the admiral, the summoning pool was bubbling as eldritch energy drifted over it, indicating that one of the akitsumikami (to borrow the Japanese Shintō term for such a being) was on her way back to the mortal world to answer the call to arms. "Can you tell who it is?!" the rear admiral demanded as the crowd of sailors off to one side whooped in delight.

"Sending out the recognition signal, sir," he said as he tapped a control.

The steady chatter of scrambled Morse code echoed over the chamber for a moment...

...then the technician perked as a return signal came. "Got it!" he barked out. "Mid-Ocean Escort Group C-3 code. Getting the pendant code..." He then smirked. "Kilo-One-Eight-One!"

Hearing that, Harlan chuckled as CPO1 Mason smirked. Of course, it had to be _**her**_...!

The one who had survived in the end...

"Bos'n Mate, pipe the side!" the base coxswain then barked out.

"Aye, Chief!" the master seaman said before putting the call to his lips.

Another blast of the still silenced the room...

...before a head of strawberry blonde appeared in the mists over the summoning pool.

Seeing that, everyone seemed to freeze - even the musicians as they stopped playing the Navy's march past - as the slender girl appearing to be about twelve by human terms came out, draped only in a body-hugging blue/grey diver's like skinsuit without sleeves, feet covered in medium blue boots with black trim. She had eyes of pure Navy blue peeking out of a plump yet still pretty face, her hair a shaggy fringe of fiery red tipped in deep gold. The only thing on her body save her skinsuit was the black pendant number **181** on her upper thighs to both sides.

On seeing that pendant, Harlan chuckled. "You win the bet, Chief," he muttered.

"We'll get her back soon, sir," CPO1 Mason stated.

Once clear of the summoning pool, the newcomer then stopped before she looked around. Her eyes then went wide as the memories of sailors who had trained in this place came back to her, her small operations room quickly assimilating that and relaying the necessary data to her own inner mind. "Cornwallis...!" she breathed out, her voice flecked with the tones of Atlantic Canada. "How did...?" She then shook her head before she focused on the man in the new-style Navy uniform ahead of her, then her eyes locked on the thick admiral's stripe with thin stripe-and-executive curl of a rear admiral. With that, she straightened to attention so quick, one might think she would snap her keel. "Reporting for duty, Admiral!" she barked out, not bothering with any sort of hand salute as she didn't have any sort of headgear on.

Harlan nodded. "What's your name, sailor?"

That made her smile as she proudly declared. "Her Majesty's Canadian Ship _Sackville_ , pendant K-181, Mid-Ocean Escort Group C-3, reporting for duty, sir!"

" _ **THREE CHEERS FOR SACKVILLE!**_ " the training chief then barked out.

Sackville gaped as the crowd of sailors off to one side roared their huzzahs, then she blushed cutely as the others in the room rose and applauded the arrival of Canada's first shipgirl...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	12. Vignette: Sackville Sinks a Submarine

_**NOTE:**_ _This short includes situations from_ Harry Potter _, created by Joanna Rowling. This story is also influenced by the_ Harry Potter _/_ Kantai Collection _shorts written by Harry Leferts at the Sufficient Velocity forms. This short serves as a background story to all my writings concerning Canadian shipgirls and is a sequel to "Canada's First Shipgirl"._

* * *

 **Halifax, Fleet Maintenance Facility (Atlantic), a week after Sackville's summoning...**

"Down to the basics, Captain: What the hell are we dealing with right now?"

Hearing that request from the former commander of Canada's now effectively defunct Atlantic Fleet who was taking charge of the Navy's new shipgirl project, the commander of the Fleet Maintenance Facility (Atlantic) took a deep breath. "It seems we got a hybrid, Admiral."

Rear Admiral Francis Harlan blinked. "Excuse me?"

The younger officer shrugged. "A hybrid, sir. You know that the summoning chamber at Cornwallis was built from recycled parts from the ships we lost at Sable Island right?"

"I do."

"Well, according to some of the Mi'kmaq elders who advised us on what we were to recycle from the lost ships and anything else we could use to help prepare the summoning chamber, we got hold of not just intact parts of the ship hulls we could salvage, but their electronics, radar, sonar and even their weapons. We even tossed in stuff that had been recycled from the old steamers that was turned over to the Naval Museum here in Halifax." Here, the veteran maritime systems engineer that commanded Canada's east coast ship repair facility shrugged, a smile crossing his face; even if he wasn't a naval operations officer, he had an excellent idea about how weapons systems worked and which had been seen as state of the art before the Abyssals came along. "Somehow, according to our friends in both the Mi'kmaq and 'W' Division, all the spirit energy that came from those old ships was sealed by the spilled blood of our lost crews, then it helped modify Sacky's hull and rigging so it could take modern weapons and electronics when she came back."

Harlan blinked a couple of times as his mind absorbed that message, then he whistled. Given that the Abyssals seemed to be using vintage World War Two-like equipment, the Japanese had concentrated their kanmusu summonings on vessels of the Imperial Navy who had either used or had encountered such equipment before. Because of that, the people working for the Canadian version of that project at the recently-reactivated Canadian Forces Base Cornwallis had done the same thing...even if the standard vessel in service during that war was a Flower-class corvette. A whaler design that was roughly half the length of a modern Halifax-class frigate, such ships had been powered by old-style triple expansion engines, were armed with depth charge throwers and racks (later upgrades gave them Hedgehog anti-submarine mortar throwers), a World War One-vintage BL 4 inch Mk IX naval gun forward and a four-barrel QF 2-pounder "pom pom" naval gun aft of the funnel. It wasn't much in comparison to other navies' escort forces...but for a country whose shipbuilding capabilities had been woefully behind both Britain's and America's at time time, it was something.

"So what are we dealing with?" he then asked.

The commander of FMF(A) sighed. "If she was a ship, Sacky would be about similar in size to a Saint Laurent-class steamer. She still has a single screw, but she has a SEMT Pielstick V20 cruise diesel engine to power her in lieu of that old triple-expansion engine of hers; tests in the Basin gives her a top speed of 25 knots and she can keep it up for hours if she needs to." Here, he chuckled as he remembered getting an angry call from the chief of the Halifax police department because of the waves a giddy shipgirl had produced racing up and down Bedford Basin at flank speed and how it had threatened to swamp fishing boats and harbour ferries. "Her combat range was doubled since she has expanded fuel tanks; give it about six thousand nautical miles at 20 knots. That will make convoy escort over the Atlantic or Pacific quite easy for her."

That made the admiral nod. "Good. What about sensors and weapons?"

The commander of FMF(A) looked over at his chief subordinate, who was the senior naval combat systems engineer in the unit. "She's got a mixed sensor suite. She has the old SQS-504 variable depth sonar that was fitted on the Saint Laurent-class after their conversion to DDHs in the 1960s, plus an SQS-10 hull sonar unit where her old ASDIC unit was located. She has a lattice mast like the Restigouche-class and Annapolis-class ships got in their big refits, with a suite compatible to a Halifax-class before the FELEX refits: A Saab Sea Giraffe HC 150 air and surface search set, SPS-49(V)5 long range air search and SPG-503 STIR fire control radar. Weapons..." Here, he shook his head. "Bofors 57 millimetre Mark 2 gun forward in lieu of the four inch piece. Phalanx Mark 15 Sea-whiz where the pom pom was aft of the funnel. The depth charge rails and launchers are gone both midships and aft. She's shipping two triple Mark 32 torpedo launchers modified to fire Mark 46 Mod 5s; that's between her VDS and the Phalanx."

"And she's carrying RIM-162 Evolved Sea Sparrows," the commander of FMF(A) finished. "Sixteen launchers in all, all where her midships depth charge throwers would be."

Silence fell as the leader of Canada's shipgirls sat back in his chair, his mind reeling in joyous disbelief at that information. A vast part of the reason the Royal Canadian Navy and the navies of other nations had such issues with the Abyssals all along was that modern anti-ship or anti-aircraft weapons simply couldn't realistically lock in on human-sized targets, never mind that the fields of dark magic Abyssals projected automatically hazed up normal electronics...but even the crew-served anti-personnel weapons like the M2 Browning .50 calibre machine guns on warships couldn't get decent hits due to the size of the targets and the fact that they had stood off at the range of old cruiser guns, way beyond even the capabilities of the famous "Ma Deuce". But to finally get a missile-launching shipgirl with a defensive combat radius of thirty nautical miles, using weapons that could fly at four times the speed of sound...!

He closed his eyes as he considered how Sackville and her soon-to-come sisterships would be able to fight. Okay, the Sea Sparrows would be the long-range attack option against aircraft carriers; drop one of those into the launching bay of a Wo-class ship and they'd go up like the Kidō Butai had done at Midway. Battleships such as the Ru-class ships hadn't been seen in the Atlantic...but that could change, which meant that he had to get shipgirls armed with Harpoons as soon as possible. _Probably the River-class girls can do that if they're going to change as much as Sackville did_ , Harlan mused to himself. _When the Tribals come back, they can step in as area air defence destroyers like their later namesakes did after the TRUMP refits._ The Mark 46 torpedoes had a range of about six miles, so they could be used to keep the destroyers and light cruisers back from a convoy. The 57 millimetre Bofors autocannon and the Phalanx CIWS were perfect for anti-aircraft work; the Swedish-designed rapid-fire gun could also take out destroyers if necessary. _How to defend them against submarines...!_ "Could they get Limbo mortars put on them. Or the old Hedgehog throwers?" he then asked his hosts.

"Why?" the deputy commander of FMF(A) wondered.

"Anti-torpedo defence," Harlan stated. "This way, she could drop mortar bombs in the path of torpedoes to knock them askew or blow them up before they hit their targets, then hit with a torpedo attack to take out whatever submarine or destroyer is trying to get at the convoy."

The engineers looked at each other, then they nodded...

* * *

 **A month later, in the Bay of Fundy...**

"Hey, Sacky! How the hell are we supposed to use this gash, anyway?!"

Sackville smirked as she looked over her shoulders at Wetaskiwin. While the shipwrights and other geniuses at the dockyard in Halifax were busy trying to decide how the heck they were going to support shipgirls who were NOT carrying their standard kit, the trainers at Cornwallis had been busy summoning Sackville's sisters back to duty so they could form up in their old escort groups and start practising with each other to make sure they could get out onto the oceans and start clearing the Abyssals from it so convoys could sail to Britain as soon as possible. While the island nation wasn't totally in dire straits thanks to the Channel Tunnel and cargo aircraft bringing supplies from the Continent, it was getting very uncomfortable and the Canadians had promised help as soon as they had enough shipgirls trained and ready to deploy.

"It's not so difficult, Queenie!" the first of the Flower-class shipgirls teased the adopted Albertan, using the nickname her sisters had coined for her in following the rebus of her name, "wet ass queen". "Didn't you listen to what Hallie told you about the new kit?!"

"It bored me!" the first Pacific-built corvette to join the Navy moaned as she rolled her blue eyes; like other Flowers, her eye and hair colour were always influenced either by their ship's heraldic crest or the heraldic crests of their namesake home towns.

"Pay attention, Wetaskiwin!" Toronto snapped from the head of the formation. The first of the River-class frigates to come through the summoning pool, the namesake to Canada's largest city had surprised the planners in Ottawa by coming through with a thorough modern weapons, hull and electronics upgrade. Had she still been a ship, she would have been as long as her Halifax-class frigate-self that had been sunk at Sable Island. She had two diesel engines that drove her twin propellers; she had the same range as her River-class body and could easily punch it up to 27 knots if she had to. In terms of weapons, she packed two 57 millimetre Mark 2 cannons with one turret superfiring over the other (on her right arm in shipgirl format), two Phalanx Mark 15 CIWS systems amidships to cover her flanks (on her rigging behind her head of blue-tinged golden blonde hair on both sides of her funnel), quad Mark 141 launchers for RGM-84 Harpoon missiles aft of her funnel (on her upper thighs as a shipgirl) which gave her the ability to reach out and touch someone seventy nautical miles away, and two triple Mark 32 launchers modified to fire Mark 46 Mod 5 torpedoes (just above her knees). Her radar and sonar gear was just as she had it in her Halifax-class body before the FELEX refit, including the CANTASS towed array passive sonar in lieu of a variable depth model. "That 'gash' as you call it can save your life much better than what the zoomies could pull with their Hornets...!"

"Toronto! Surface contact, just off Brier Island!"

Toronto smirked as she gazed on her sistership Montréal; when the mass summonings began, all those ships who had lived as Halifax-class frigates in recent years had been happy to come back right away...even if shipgirls like Halifax and Ville de Québec wound up being jealous of their former sisterships because they had come back as Flower-class corvettes in lieu of River-class frigates. "Send out an IFF, Monty!" the temporary leader of Escort Group C-3 called out.

"Oui!" the namesake of Québec's largest city affirmed before she concentrated. The reply came back in a minute. "Some of our Japanese friends, ma sœur," Montréal then announced with a cheeky grin, which made those shipgirls who hadn't served past the end of World War Two automatically tense before they were glared into silence by Sackville. "They came through the Panama Canal and dragged their coats up the Atlantic coast to show the Abyssals they could do that. They're actually escorting some empty container vessels to Saint John from Norfolk and want to make a courtesy call on Admiral Harlan at Cornwallis."

"Who exactly?" Toronto asked.

Her silver-haired sister sent out a message to the approaching force that was screening the small column of container ships now heading for New Brunswick's largest seaport. The reply came back soon enough. "Carrier Divisions One and Five, Battleship Division Three, Cruiser Division Eighteen and Destroyer Divisions Seven and Eleven, plus cruiser Sendai," Montréal called out. "Four carriers, four fast battleships, three light cruisers and seven destroyers."

"Haven't the dumb Yanks brought back their own ships?!" Camrose demanded from outboard of Sackville. "Shit! Is this gonna be like before Pearl Harbour, when we're doing this all ALONE?!"

"Their own shipgirl project is still stuck in committee in Congress!" Agassiz teased.

All the other corvettes save Sackville roared with derisive laughter...

...before they jolted as Inch Arran hissed out, "Enemy contacts!"

As the others clammed up, the adopted New Brunswicker - she was one of those warships from World War Two who had to get different name; "Dalhousie" had been in use elsewhere - made her report: "Possible surface and sub-surface action to port, due south of Brier, range fifty nautical from the Japanese! I'm picking up a Ru-class, two Wo-class plus standard escort groups! The carriers are turning into the wind to get their squadrons airborne! Also have two So-class submarines between the surface force and the container ships...!"

"Dally! Monty! Scratch those carriers!" Toronto snapped. "The battleship's mine!" To the corvettes. "You girls scoot over and deal with those submarines! _**AND DON'T FUCKIN' RAM THEM, YOU LUNATICS!**_ "

"AYE, MA'AM!" the others chanted before the group broke formation.

Seeing her orders were being obeyed, Toronto then sent out a signal...

* * *

 **Southwest of Brier Island...**

"SHIT!"

Kongō hated swearing, but it seemed right to do that.

"Onē-sama, I have a Ru-class, two Wo-class and escorts!" Kirishima reported from astern of her sistership. "The carriers are launching airplanes!"

"Right!" the British-built fast battleship snapped. "Girls! Get your planes into the air! We got two Wo-class coming down on us with a Ru-class and escorts!"

"Understood!" Akagi called back as she, Kaga, Shōkaku and Zuikaku readied their daikyū.

"WAIT!"

Eyes locked on Fubuki. "What is it, Fubuki-san?!" Zuikaku demanded.

"The Canadian escort group leader is signalling to NOT launch aircraft!" the special destroyer stated...then she blinked in confusion. "And she also said...!"

Silence fell for a moment. "What, Bucky?!" Kongō pressed.

Fubuki gave Kongō a stunned look. "'Exodus, Chapter Nine, Verses 23 and 24'...?"

That made the other shipgirls blink before Kongō's eyes went wide. "Oh...!"

"What, Onē-sama?" Haruna demanded.

The leader of Battleship Division Three closed her eyes as she picked up the distant roar of missile launchers spitting out their cargo. As the others in the group gasped on seeing twelve contrails leap out of the northern horizon to soar right at the approaching Abyssal formation, the British-built battleship then declared with the thundering passion of a pastor who had administered to the Vickers dockyard workers at Barrow-in-Furness...

 _Moses stretched out his staff toward the sky,  
And the Lord sent thunder and hail..._

A howling shriek of mortal agony made the kanmusu turn to their starboard and morbidly watch as the approaching battleship was literally torn apart amidships by four RGM-84s...

 _And fire ran down to the Earth.  
And the Lord rained hail on the land of Egypt._

That was soon accompanied by twin shrieks of terminal pain as the two carriers found their flight decks penetrated by four Harpoons each, cooking off all their ammunition in the hangars...

 _So there was hail, and fire flashing continually  
In the midst of the hail, very severe..._

" _ **SEMPAI-TACHI! GET YOUR AIRPLANES UP!**_ " Fubuki snapped.

Realizing that whoever the nice Canadian shipgirl was that had told them to hold off on launching airplanes until the skies were clear of Harpoons, the four carriers sent off their strike waves while Kongō and her sisters turned to starboard to launch a surface engagement, their escorting cruisers and destroyers remaining behind to guard the container ships.

 _...such as had not been in all the land of Egypt since it became a nation..._

Soon enough, the suddenly orphaned destroyers and attack airplanes saw themselves swarmed by two air flotillas of A6Ms, D3As and B5Ns. While the Zeroes went in to take out the attacking airplanes, the Vals and Kates moved to make the seas around the the destroyers quite hot to force the Abyssals to either stay there and die or retreat; of course, the latter couldn't be allowed given the fact that the Canadians had armed their shipgirls with missiles.

Meanwhile, under the waves, the two enemy submarines moved to get clear of the surface action so they could make their attacks on the cargo ships moving to get to safety in New Brunswick.

They didn't realize that they now stood as clear as neon to ships equipped with VDS or CANTASS...

* * *

«Oi, Sacky! That one's closer to you!» Wetaskiwin called out.

Sackville smirked. «Got her, Queenie!»

The corvette raced down at flank speed towards the unsuspecting So-class that was closing the range with Akagi and Kaga. _Don't those idiot Japs have sonar on their ships?!_ the unofficial elder sister of the Flower-class corvettes snarled to herself as she felt her stoker faeries pump as much fuel as they dared into her diesel to make it push her faster than what she had done before in Bedford Basin. She knew the shipgirls of Carrier Division One were modern samurai in every sense of the word; Sackville had been briefed by Admiral Harlan himself on their vow to end their second lives at the ends of wakizashi at the Arizona Memorial in Hawai'i when the war was over to atone for their "mistake" in helping launching Operation Z before a formal declaration of war had been delivered to the bureaucrats in Washington...WHEN IT HADN'T BEEN THEIR FAULT IN THE DAMNED FIRST PLACE! Given that the people in Cornwallis hoped to get Nabob, Puncher, Warrior, Magnificent and Bonaventure back as shipgirls, the soon-to-return Canadian carriers would need teachers in the fine art of naval combat air operations. Who better than...?

She then gasped on detecting the So-class submarine spin around and move her way, bearing dead ahead of her bow. Smirking, Sackville kept it on as she closed the range. The 21 inch torpedo used by Abyssal submarines were guided by gyroscopes, effectively making them "dumb" fish only capable of firing in straight lines. Her own Mark 46s were sonar-guided, which meant they could change course if necessary to hit the target. She also had a slight edge on range; the 21 inch could only do five miles to a Mark 46's six. Realizing that by challenging the idiot ahead of her head-on, she could distract the submarine from going after a more vital target, Sackville smirked as she took aim with her main deck gun; it had a five-mile range, but it could crank out two hundred rounds a minute, much faster than the smaller forty mike-mikes that normally served as heavy anti-air defence on an American warship.

«Sackville! What the hell are you DOING?!» Toronto thundered over the airwaves.

«Playing chicken with this creep, Skipper!» the corvette called back.

That made the blonde frigate gape. «You're WHAT?!»

Sackville smirked as the range got close. «Hard part's knowing when to flinch...!»

Ten miles...

Nine...

Eight...

Seven...

Six miles...

Three Mark 46s leapt out of their tubes on Sackville's left leg, plunging into the water and racing ahead of her, running silent as they used their mother ship's sonar to close the range.

Five miles...

A swarm of 21 inch torpedoes lanced out from the So-class.

Detecting that via her hull sonar, Sackville laughed as she did a lazy turn to port, pulling away from the track of the container ships out into the Atlantic. Her torpedoes did the same, getting well clear of accidentally striking the enemy fish as they spun off to nowhere without getting close. Noting the little frigate had steered clear of her, the enemy submarine howled as she moved to periscope depth to get a new track on the laughing redhead, then send her down...

...not realizing she was now in the range of Sackville's deck gun.

* * *

"Anti-aircraft guns!" Kaga called out on hearing a thunderous din in the near distance.

"But we got the enemy air formation!" Akagi exclaimed.

"No! The pressure echo's too heavy!" Zuikaku declared. "Sending scouts to investigate..."

The carriers remained silent as their silver-haired companion listened to the reports from her aircraft...then she gaped. "Minna-san...one of the Canadian ships is firing on what looks like a So-class at periscope depth with her DECK GUN!" she exclaimed. "It's going even faster than the American forty millimetre pieces they imported from Bofors in Sweden...!"

She then jolted. "What?!" Shōkaku demanded.

Zuikaku gaped as the next message came in. "The Canadian's stopped, Shōkaku-nē...!"

* * *

Snarling at the impertinence of the little reborn whaler, the submarine readied her torpedoes. Getting the solution quickly, she moved to fix the range...

...only to see the impudent frigate wanna-be pointing her deck gun at her.

A storm of 57 millimetre shells raced out to churn up the water around the Abyssal, causing the submarine to scream out and lose aim. The incoming fire then stopped, making the So-class move to look once more at her target...only to see the reborn whaler point down...

...just as the Abyssal sensed the sounds of fast-moving screws closing in on her.

* * *

A loud _BANG!_ echoed over the waters of the Gulf of Maine, making everyone perk.

"What happened, Zuikaku-san?!" Kaga demanded.

Zuikaku's eyebrow twitched. "She got it..."

"Eh?!" the other carriers gasped.

"The Canadian distracted the submarine with her deck gun...and let her torpedoes sail right in to sink her!" the silver-haired carrier exclaimed as she stared wide-eyed at her friends.

That made the others blink in shock...

* * *

 **Cornwallis, several hours later...**

"That was well done, Sackville...but please, do NOT do that again!"

Hearing Toronto finish berating the corvette on the jetty close to the mess hall, the visiting Japanese kanmusu all winced in sympathy. "Um, Toronto-san, there's no need...!" Fubuki began.

"Miss Fubuki, please be quiet!" the frigate snarled, making Fubuki duck her head.

"I'm sorry, Skipper," Sackville apologized.

Noting that, Toronto then relaxed. "Other than that, you did good, Sacky!" she then breathed out as Montréal and Inch Arran breathed out. "Now, let's hit the mess for some food, then we head to the refurbishment docks to make sure our gear's in top shape! You guys, too," she then bade the visitors from Japan. "Trailing coats down coastlines is one thing, but there's such a thing as too much wear and tear on the gear! We got loads of bauxite to ingest..."

"But poutine first," Montréal declared.

"'Poutine'...?!"

That was a wide-eyed Akagi, who was staring in hope at the adopted Québécoise, drool appearing at the corners of her lips as she imagined what a mixture of French fries, cheese curds and gravy would taste like; she had heard of the famous Canadian side dish and had always wanted to try it. "What?!" Montréal demanded. "You've never had poutine before?!" She walked over to grab the carrier's arm and lead her to the mess hall. "Come, Madame Akagi! A feast awaits!"

Seeing that, Zuikaku whispered to her sister, "Are they ready for her, Shōkaku-nē?!"

Shōkaku giggled as Fubuki moaned and the other kanmusu laughed.

This was NOT the way to make a good impression on new friends...!

 _ **Fin...!**_


	13. When Shipgirls Respect Others

**3459\. From FOSGF in Ottawa: Please keep in mind that Canada's "Adopt A Shipgirl" policy for those frigates and corvettes who were never built or named (but still answered the call to arms) is meant as a morale booster for both the ship and the town whose name (or chosen nickname) the shipgirl bears. This is meant to promote fighting efficiency and doesn't imply that the shipgirl in question has some attributes certain people would disagree with.  
** **3459(A). For those shipgirls who still have problems accepting that some of your sisters are pursuing relationships with other shipgirls, this is the Twenty-first Century! Deal with it!**

* * *

 **Canadian Forces Base Cornwallis...**

Lingabar took a deep breath. "Where do I belong...?"

Hearing that moan from the once-never built River-class frigate lying on her bunk in one of the training division barracks overlooking Trunk Highway 1, Rainbow looked over her shoulder before she sighed. "Lingabar, it's not your fault or the admiral's that we couldn't find the source of your name," the Apollo-class light cruiser that was one of the first two ships to be brought into the service of the Dominion in 1910 gently chided. "I'm sure that some community out there would be honoured to adopt you as 'their' shipgirl. Just let it come."

Hearing that, the frigate with the dark blue eyes and the sea-green hair sighed. "Aye..."

The "Adopt A Shipgirl" project had started when the mass summoning of frigates and corvettes were made at Cornwallis in the wake of Sackville's summoning. During World War Two, the number of such ships initially ordered had been much higher than what was actually built; the changing of Navy operations as the war against the U-Boats forcing the government in Ottawa to switch from cheap corvettes to more expensive frigates and eventually new destroyers. Because of that, thirty-six Castle-class corvettes that would have been built in Canadian yards had been cancelled before construction began...yet because the need had been there and the spiritual energy that had created shipgirls in the first place was still quite plentiful, all thirty-six of those would-be corvettes had answered the call to arms. That had sent Rear Admiral Harlan's staff into devising new names for those girls following the Canadian tradition of naming escort warships after cities, towns and communities as had been done during the war. With that, the Navy brass in Ottawa solicited local communities across the country to "adopt" those new shipgirls as "their" own fighter in the war against the Abyssals. Soon enough, every shipgirl that had actually served as warships in the Navy wound up being "adopted" by communities across the nation. Sadly, given that the source of the name "Lingabar" remained a mystery despite all the work the Directorate of History and Heritage poured into finding the story...!

 _DING!_

Rainbow perked on hearing the sound of her e-mail alert going off on her iPhone. As she delicately tapped on the plastic/glass screen of her smartphone - once again mentally cursing the device for its devilish ability to addict her to things like gossip chat lines - to get the message in question...then she gaped. "Oh, my!" the light cruiser breathed out.

"What is it?" the frigate asked.

"It appears a community has risen up to adopt you."

That made Lingabar gasp in delight. "EH?! REALLY?!"

Rainbow smiled. "I just got a letter from the councillor representing Ward 13 of Toronto. That's the same area of the city that used to be the town of Swansea before they amalgamated it with the city in 1967. That means you can join Escort Group C-6 once you're fully worked up!"

Hearing that made the frigate scream with delight...

* * *

 **A month later...**

Shipgirl escort teams in the Royal Canadian Navy were normally built around a "two-plus-five" system of two River-class frigates combined with five Flower-class or Castle-class corvettes or Fundy-class, Bangor-class or Algerine-class minesweepers that got reborn as "quasi-corvettes" with better diesel engines, surface-to-air missiles and other goodies that had made life hell on the Abyssals ever since Sackville emerged from Cornwallis a half-year before. When it came to escorting large convoys, two escort teams formed a numbered escort group that sailed from Halifax, Sydney or Saint John's for the trip across to Southampton, Dublin or Le Harve.

Group C-6 was popularly nicknamed the "Toronto Argonauts" in tribute to the Canadian Football League sixteen-time Grey Cup champions; this was because all the ships in the group took names from either communities that now formed part of Canada's largest city or were near neighbours to Toronto. Naturally, the frigate Toronto served as the group's flag when they were deployed.

After Lingabar had been assigned to the Argonauts, she got herself a proper dark blue team jersey with her name and pendant number **311** on her front and back.

She also got something else.

"Lingy...!"

"What is it, Boss?" Lingabar asked as she scanned the southern horizon for possible threats; the Argonauts had been assigned to do a sweep of the area around the Grand Banks near Cape Race to ensure the next convoy now massing at Sydney would have no issues before their escort team came to take them across the pond to get new supplies over to Ireland.

"What the hell are you doing flying the _**Rainbow Flag**_ from your masthead?!"

That made the green-haired frigate blush. "I HAVE to, Boss...!"

"Huh?!" came the eloquent reply from the frigate with silver-tinged brown hair and blue eyes.

Swansea snickered. "Oh, c'mon, Hoggie!" the silver-haired frigate with the blue eyes chimed in as she put her fists to her hips. "You know it was the folks who run the Pride Toronto festivals who pressed the city council to have Lingy adopted by that part of town!"

Toronto took a deep breath. "So what, Swanny?! It doesn't mean...!"

"Boss! Enemy surface contact starboard!"

Hearing that shout from Runnymede, all the members of Group C-6 tensed as they looked to the south. "There!" Mimico snapped, pointing. "A fuck-ton of destroyers coming our way!"

"Castles! Ready ASROCs!" Toronto snapped. "Everyone else, load up torpedoes!"

The five Castle-class corvettes in the team - Leaside, Markham, Clarington, Mississauga and Vaughan - instantly loaded the rocket-launched torpedoes into their Mark 13 launchers; when the Canadian Atlantic Fleet had been destroyed in the Battle of Sable Island, several Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigates from America and the two Cassard-class frigates from France had also been sunk. Their steel, weapons and electronics had been salvaged, then melted down into the magically-treated materials that went into the summoning chamber at Cornwallis. The result was that the Castle-class corvettes - the first Commonwealth escort class to be built to include a radar set - wound up returning with the ability to use the famous "one-armed bandit" missile launcher fitted to their bows and a 57 millimetre Bofors gun aft, along with the normal outfit of Enhanced Sea Sparrow missiles, Phalanx Mark 15 CIWS systems and Mark 46 torpedoes...!

" _ **WAIT! WHITE FLAG!**_ "

Hearing Forrest Hill's shout, the others looked...

...then gaped on seeing the white banners flying from the masthead of the destroyers now facing the Argonauts. As the shipgirls all stopped on seeing the enemy force approach, they then jerked as someone surged up from the depths, revealing the tomboyish form of a Ri-class cruiser. "Oh, fuck...!" Toronto hissed out as she readied her Harpoons...

...then she gaped on seeing a white flag pop up from the cruiser's mast!

"What the hell...?!" Toronto moaned...

...then she crashed her bow into the water as a now-crying Ri-class ship lunged over to hug Lingabar by the legs, wailing in delight. While the frigate in question immediately moved to comfort the weeping cruiser, several of the shipgirls seeing this sweated in confusion at the sight. Noting that the cruiser's eyes had locked in on the LGBT flag that was flying from her sister's mast, Swansea shook her head. Even if Abyssals were supposed to be destroyed on sight, a white flag had to be respected...and by the looks of it, she now had a good idea why this one wanted to surrender.

So did Mimico. "She'll be an interesting sight on Yonge Street next year," she whispered to Long Branch.

The other corvette snickered...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	14. When Shipgirls Learn About Eagle Staffs

_**NOTE:**_ _This is a salute to the wonderful_ Kantai Collection _d_ _ō_ _jinshi created by the super-talented_ **Hisahiko** _over at the Danbooru website. For those who don't know where this is, Google it!_

 **34** **80** **. From FOSGF in Ottawa to all shipgirls: The Eagle Staffs which have been gifted to the shipgirls of the Royal Canadian Navy by the shamans of the First Nations are incredibly powerful magical totems. If you haven't been trained by any elder shaman in using such staffs even if a peaceful situation, PLEASE DON'T TOUCH THEM!  
** **34** **80** **(A). Given what just happened to Katsuragi, this rule WILL be enforced! I doubt we can get anything out of Nagato for the next YEAR given how much the aura of moe disabled her!  
** **34** **80** **(B). Can we PLEASE get a shaman over to Japan to do a Change-of-Carrier ceremony?! Much that chibi Katsuragi is cute as all heck, we need to get her back on duty again!  
** **34** **80** **(C).** _ **NO! I want Raggy!**_ **\- Hoppō  
** **34** **80** **(D). Someone go call Yonaga!  
** **34** **80** **(E).** _ **Eeep!**_ **\- Hoppō (hiding under the nearest kotatsu)**

* * *

 **Yokosuka...**

"I'm so sorry about this, Sioux-san...!"

The metallic tan-skinned woman now in the refurbishment dock made a dismissive wave with her hand. "It's alright, Fubuki," Sioux moaned out as she allowed the dockyard repair fairies to get to work healing all her internal injuries. "I was too busy dealing with that pack of cruisers when that submarine bushwhacked me from behind. Lesson learned..."

The brown-haired destroyer nodded even if her eyes brimmed with tears as she remembered that horrid fight. The Canadians' Escort Groups C-2 and C-4 had teamed with a hunter-killer pack of shipgirls from three nations to sweep the northern Pacific basin of Abyssal forces in hopes of clearing out the traffic lanes between North America and Japan once and for all time. During the last fight close to Hokkaidō, Sioux had used her Eagle Staff to magically vaporize some stubborn cruisers...only to be slammed with a torpedo in the port side which forced her to be towed to Yokosuka. And while the post-battle analysis had shown there was no real fault on anyone's part, Fubuki's own sense of responsibility was bashing her hard in the soul. "Still..." she then feebled out, wishing that she had got the chance to better learn how to operate all the neat new systems that the "Improved Fubuki" modifications - called the "Kai San" upgrade in Japan - given to her thanks to Terra Nova.

Sadly, the Abyssals always didn't want to be party to such an idea...

"It comes with time," the Tribal-class destroyer advised the other shipgirl. "Pay it no mind. We learn and move on, no different than how we learned it all during World War Two." She closed her eyes. "Anyhow, just make sure no one messes around with the Eagle Staff, alright."

"Hai..."

* * *

"Ah! Yūdachi-chan! Be careful with that!"

Yūdachi perked before she looked over her shoulder. "Poi...?"

"What's wrong, Fubuki-chan?" Mutsuki asked.

Fubuki sighed. "Just be careful with that, please!" she pleaded as she ran up to join her friends. In the pink-haired Yūdachi's hands was a beautiful staff the size of any of the elder carrier's daikyū, built with a composition of a native bow traditionally used by the Niitsitapi in what was today Alberta, a tusk from a narwhal inserted into the staff by an Inuit shaman, a Métis sash and an eagle's head carved by a Haida elder at the top end. Hanging from it were eagle feathers mixed with all thirteen Canadian provincial/territorial flags, the Canadian flag atop the staff over the White Ensign. "It's a sacred staff!" she insisted. "All the Canadians will be really mad if you did something wrong with it!"

The other destroyers blinked. "So?! Why can't we make use of this thing?!" Yūdachi demanded as she tried to mimic how Sioux had carried the Pacific Eagle Staff while out on the ocean leading her destroyer squadron into action. "Did you see how Sioux-san took care of those cruisers, poi?! Just waved the staff and POOF! They were all...!"

Suddenly, the Staff flared with its incredible power just as the carrier Katsuragi appeared before them. The destroyers gasped as energy lashed out, hitting the raven-haired girl ahead of them right in the chest! " _ **KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**_ " all three cried out...

...then they morbidly watched as Katsuragi was shrunk from her teenage body to something more akin to a preschooler, her miko-like clothing shrinking with her!

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

" _ **KATSURAGI!**_ "

Yūdachi yelped on hearing Zuikaku's shocked voice, then the destroyers watched as the armoured carrier and her sistership ran up to stare wide-eyed at the chibi version of Katsuragi, who was looking around in childish confusion. She then gazed up at the taller and older Zuikaku for a moment...before a grin crossed her face. "Zuiiii...!"

With a perfect leap, Katsuragi was in Zuikaku's arms, making the latter gape as the former moved to cuddle against her. As Shōkaku shook her head in confusion, Yūdachi felt a cloak of DOOM sink down on her head as she tried to figure out how she would explain this.

Fubuki sighed. "Yūdachi-chan...!"

"Oops...!" Mutsuki breathed out.

That didn't make Yūdachi feel any better. "Poi...!"

* * *

 **Admiral Got** **ō** **'s office, an hour later...**

"I'm sorry, sir, but this can't done."

Hearing Nootka's proclamation, Admiral Gotō groaned. "Why not, Nootka-san?"

The dusky-skinned woman with the silver-fringed raven hair and the deep blue eyes sighed. "Sir, the Eagle Staff is magically linked to the chosen carrier whenever one is chosen and the proper ceremony is done to bond the Staff to the carrier; in this case, Sioux. We would have to do a change-of-carrier ceremony at the sacred circle set up at H.M.C.S. _Discovery_ in Vancouver to allow me to become the new carrier to transform Katsuragi back into her proper form and age. Atop that, there was a special enchantment put on the Staff to prevent the Abyssals from seizing it; the change-of-carrier ceremony can only occur either when Sioux is dead or she's at full operational capacity. As she's in the repair docks now...!"

Gotō sighed. "Nagato-san, get an instant repair bucket for Sioux-san."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"Nagato-san...?"

People turned to look where the secretary ship was...

...then everyone moaned on seeing the insensate battleship at her desk, gazing towards the cutely babbling Katsuragi, who was currently being held in Zuikaku's lap. Despite what just happened, even Gotō had to admit the last survivor of the Unryū class carriers looked simply _**adorable**_ as she was now...even if it would affect operations at this time. Taking a deep breath, the admiral sat back in his chair. "Get Yonaga-san in here!" he ordered.

"Hai, Teitoku!" Mutsu answered before she stepped out of the office.

A moment later, the tallest shipgirl on the base walked into the room. "You wished to see me, Teitoku?" Yonaga began...then she stopped on seeing the little child in Zuikaku's lap. "Er...?" she began, wondering what on Earth was a CHILD doing here...then she gaped on seeing the green miko-like clothing the chibi shipgirl wore. "Katsuragi-san...?!"

"We have a problem, Yonaga-san," Gotō stated. "Your next patrol will be one support carrier short since the only thing that can change Katsuragi-san back to normal is the Eagle Staff...and can only be done by Sioux-san due to the enchantments on the Staff."

Hearing that, the seventh carrier of Operation Z blinked before she sighed. "Understood, Teitoku. May I ask what exactly caused Katsuragi-san to be turned into a child?"

Fingers all pointed to Yūdachi, which made the fifth of the Yamato-class moan out. "I see."

"Poi..." Yūdachi moaned out.

"Yon!"

Yonaga blinked, then turned to stare at Katsuragi, who was now staring in awe at the taller shipgirl. Seeing the flustered look on the raven-haired carrier's face, Zuikaku laughed...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	15. When Shipgirls Use CB Radio Talk

**3527\. From FOSGF in Ottawa, DCNS/SG in Washington and 6SL in London to all shipgirls: Alright, whoever introduced the idea of CB Radio lingo to the destroyer escorts, frigates and corvettes helping escort convoys best report to your commanding admiral immediately! Much that we've noticed the increased enthusiasm all the shipgirls are showing in their duties, we can't understand over half of what they're saying! And that doesn't mention all the damage all the DEs/FFs/PCs have taken because they're RAMMING Abyssals instead of using their weapons on them!  
** **3527(A). As of now, the movies** _ **Convoy**_ **and the** _ **Smokey and the Bandit**_ **trilogy have been added to the list of banned films!  
** **3527(B).** _ **This is Mama Flower to all good buddies out there! We're gonna Bear hunting! Ten-four!  
**_ **3527(C).** _ **SACKVILLE!**_ **\- Rear Admiral F.D. Harlan, FOSGF**

* * *

 **One day in Yokosuka...**

"They're what?!"

"They're BORING, Sacky!" Halifax snarled. "I mean yeah, it's tradition to use Bible quotes and all that, but not all of us have read the damned Bible! And how the hell are the Yanks supposed to understand us at all?! Not all of them have read the blasted book either!"

"She's got a point, Sacky," Wetaskiwin noted. "Atop that, there is the chance that the Abyssals might start wising up and try to tap into our digital communications, too!"

Hearing that from the senior Flower-class corvette on the Pacific coast, the primal shipgirl of the Royal Canadian Navy sighed. "Okay, we'll have to switch to something different and something that our American friends can get used to really quick, too. Since we're mixing up escort groups in getting the convoys across the Pacific and Atlantic, we need to find a way to keep the messages short and sweet, not to mention a mystery to the enemy."

The other shipgirls representing all the major escort classes of both the Royal Canadian Navy and the United States Navy nodded. "So how can we do it, Sacky?" Samuel B. Roberts then asked. "Yeah, save for the folks from Québec, north New Brunswick and parts of Louisiana and New England, we all speak the same primary language. Heck, save for the spelling differences, we all can read the same way. What can we use?"

Hums escaped the others as they considered that...then Chilliwack snapped her fingers. "I got it!" she called out as others looked at her. "Remember last week's movie at Kitsap?!"

"We weren't there, Wacky," England reminded the corvette.

Chilliwack smirked. " _Smokey and the Bandit_."

Confused blinks answered her. "What about it?" Halifax asked.

The red-haired, green-eyed Oriental-looking corvette's grin turned evil...

* * *

 **Two weeks later...**

"The convoy will be here soon."

"I know," Nagato stated as she gazed on the computer image before her, showing a large convoy of merchantmen escorted by Escort Group C-2 and Task Group 77.8, the mass of container ships, oil tankers and bulk freighters still about a day out of Tōkyō Bay. "Ōyodo-san, have you been able to pick up anything from our friends?"

"Something really odd, Nagato-san," the light cruiser manning the radios stated as she gazed on the battleship. "It seems that the Canadians and the Americans have changed their whole tactical language. It's not Navajo code-talk or using Bible quotes..."

That made both Nagato and Mutsu blink. "On speakers," the latter bade.

"Hai!"

Controls were pressed, then Ōyodo adjusted the frequency...

" _...Stream Clover, this is Scrappy Sammy. You're 10-1, Clover; I got my ears on and I'd swear you're LID! Mercy sake's alive, girl! Put some spark in your set!_ "

"Huh...?!" two battleships eloquently trilled out.

A new voice that was somewhat familiar answered, " _Sammy, this is Clover! You're coming in five-by-five! Gotta go horizontal; we're wall-to-wall bears in the air right now and I'm taking a damned November gale here! You doodles have an antenna farm with you, come back?!_ "

" _Clover, this here's Deep Six! I copy your problem with the bears! Deep Six to Marse Robert! You copy Clover there?! We need some some pogo sticks sent to her 20!_ "

" _Ten-four, Six! Hang on, Clover! T-Bird and Killer Whale are on their way!_ "

Nagato and Mutsu blinked several more times as Ōyodo helplessly shrugged. "What...?"

" _Woo! Ungowa Bwana, Robert! We're down, out and on the side 'till they reach our 20!_ "

" _Mercy sake's alive, Clover! What IS your 20?!_ "

" _T-Bird, Clover's westbound and down on I-6, double-nickel and six from the southside of Ten Buck Flats!_ " the shipgirl called "Marse Robert" answered. " _You better put the pedal to the medal, T-Bird! All the truckers are screaming about wall-to-wall bears in the air!_ "

" _Lordy, Lordy! T-Bird, this is Dunking Queen! I think we got us a couple bear dens at marker nickle-quad-deuce on I-6! We got us some beehives anywhere near our 20?!_ "

" _Copy that, Queen! This here's Red Castle! I'm on I-5 eastbound and down, double-deuce and eight from the bear dens with Celebration King! Sending some buzzers! You copy, Queen?!_ "

"Akagi-san?!" Nagato and Mutsu gasped in shock.

" _Copy that, Castle! We're westbound and down!_ "

"« **SPEAK CLEARLY!»** "

Ōyodo gasped. "Nagato-san!"

"They're monitoring their frequencies!" Mutsu barked.

Nagato's teeth ground together with the faint sound of steel scraping together. Even if the language and the identities save for "Red Castle" were a mystery to her - was "Celebration King" Kaga?! - the fear of the Abyssals listening in on conversations had always been...!

" _Mercy sake's alive, good buddies!_ " "Scrappy Sammy" called out. " _Looks like there's a Kojak with a Kodak somewhere on I-6! Marse Robert, you got the bear's 20?!_ "

" _Got it, Sammy! Castle, King, the black-and-white with a chrome dome's doing double-deuce! She's actually on I-5 eastbound a dime-and-nine down the strip from you!_ "

" _Ten-four, Robert! Buzzers in the air!_ " another familiar voice called out.

"There's Kaga-san..." Mutsu called out.

"Sending out an air strike with Akagi-san," Nagato concluded as she jotted some notes down on a handy pad on her desk. "Now who in the name of the Kami are the others...?!"

The others hummed as the chatter continued...

* * *

 **A day later, back in Yokosuka...**

"Does the concept of proper radio codes mean ANYTHING to you girls?!" Admiral Gotō demanded as he looked ready to swallow a whole bottle of Advil to get rid of the headache he received after getting some terse messages from his opposite numbers in Washington and Ottawa. "Bible quotes we can understand! That's tradition in the Commonwealth navies! But who in the name of the Kami invented THIS?!" He slapped the papers printed with the transcript of what had been called out over the air in the last week across the Pacific on his desk.

All the escort ships standing there chuckled in amusement as Akagi and Kaga smirked...

 _ **Fin...!**_


	16. When SGs Use CB Radio Talk (Translation)

For those who might be confused with the CB lingo used in the previous part, here's a proper translation, plus indications of who spoke what.

* * *

 _"The convoy will be here soon."_

 _"I know," Nagato stated as she gazed on the computer image before her, showing a large convoy of merchantmen escorted by Escort Group C-2 and Task Group 77.8, the mass of container ships, oil tankers and bulk freighters still about a day out of T_ _ō_ _ky_ _ō_ _Bay. "_ _Ōyodo-san, have you been able to pick up anything from our friends?"_

 _"Something really odd, Nagato-san," the light cruiser manning the radios stated as she gazed on the battleship. "It seems that the Canadians and the Americans have changed their whole tactical language. It's not Navajo code-talk or using Bible quotes..."_

 _That made both Nagato and Mutsu blink. "On speakers," the latter bade._

 _"Hai!"_

 _Controls were pressed, then_ _Ōyodo adjusted the frequency..._

 **USS Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413):** " _...Stream Clover, this is Scrappy Sammy. You're 10-1, Clover; I got my ears on and I'd swear you're LID! Mercy sake's alive, girl! Put some spark in your set!_ " ( **...Chilliwack, this is Samuel B. Roberts. Your signal's weak, Chilliwack; I can receive signals and I'd swear you're not transmitting! Mercy sake's alive, girl! Increase the power in your transmission!** )

 **HMCS Chilliwack (PC-131)** : " _Sammy, this is Clover! You're coming in five-by-five! Gotta go horizontal; we're wall-to-wall bears in the air right now and I'm taking a damned November gale here! You doodles have an antenna farm with you, come back?!_ " ( **Samuel B. Roberts, this is Chilliwack! You're coming in loud and clear! Gotta go silent; we're under attack by mass air formations and I'm being bombed! Do you Americans have a radio command ship with you, over?!** )

 **USS England (DE-635)** : " _Clover, this here's Deep Six! I copy your problem with the bears! Deep Six to Marse Robert! You copy Clover there?! We need some some pogo sticks sent to her 20!_ " ( **Chilliwack, this is England! I understand your situation with the enemy! England to Arlington! Did you hear Chilliwack?! We need some destroyers sent to her location!** )

 **USS Arlington (AGMR-2):** " _Ten-four, Six! Hang on, Clover! T-Bird and Killer Whale are on their way!_ " ( **Understood, England! Hang on, Chilliwack! Haida and Nootka are on their way!** )

 _Nagato and Mutsu blinked several more times as_ _Ōyodo helplessly shrugged. "What...?"_

 **HMCS Chilliwack (PC-131)** : " _Woo! Ungowa Bwana, Robert! We're down, out and on the side 'till they reach our 20!_ " ( **Yeah! Okay, Arlington! We'll stop transmissions until they reach us!** )

 **HMCS Haida (DDGH-215)** : " _Mercy sake's alive, Clover! What IS your 20?!_ " ( **Mercy sake's alive, Chilliwack! What IS your location?!** )

 **USS Arlington (AGMR-2)** : " _T-Bird, Clover's westbound and down on I-6, double-nickel and six from the southside of Ten Buck Flats! You better put the pedal to the medal, T-Bird! All the truckers are screaming about wall-to-wall bears in the air!_ " ( **Haida, Chilliwack is heading due west on Convoy Route Six, 556 nautical miles from the south tip of the B** **ō** **s** **ō** **Peninsula! You better go to flank speed, Haida! All the cargo ships captains are screaming about a mass air assault on them!** )

 **HMCS Wetaskiwin (PC-175)** : " _Lordy, Lordy! T-Bird, this is Dunking Queen! I think we got us a couple bear dens at marker nickle-quad-deuce on I-6! We got us some beehives anywhere near our 20?!_ " ( **Good God! Haida, this is Wetaskiwin! I think we got a couple enemy aircraft carriers at 542 nautical miles from the start point of Convoy Route Six! We got some aircraft carriers near our location?!** )

 **HIMS Akagi (CV-3)** : " _Copy that, Queen! This here's Red Castle! I'm on I-5 eastbound and down, double-deuce and eight from the bear dens with Celebration King! Sending some buzzers! You copy, Queen?!_ " ( **Understood, Wetaskiwin! This is Akagi! I'm heading east on Convoy Route Five, 228 nautical miles from the enemy aircraft carriers with Kaga! Sending attack aircraft wave! Understood, Wetaskiwin?!** )

 _"Akagi-san?!" Nagato and Mutsu gasped in shock._

 **HMCS Wetaskiwin (PC-175)** : " _Copy that, Castle! We're westbound and down!_ " ( **Understood, Akagi! We're maintaining a westerly course!** )

 _"«SPEAK CLEARLY!»"_

 _Ōyodo gasped. "Nagato-san!"_

 _"They're monitoring their frequencies!" Mutsu barked._

 _Nagato's teeth ground together with the faint sound of steel scraping together. Even if the language and the identities save for "Red Castle" were a mystery to her - was "Celebration King" Kaga?! - the fear of the Abyssals listening in on conversations had always been...!_

 **USS Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413)** : " _Mercy sake's alive, good buddies! Looks like there's a Kojak with a Kodak somewhere on I-6! Marse Robert, you got the bear's 20?!_ " ( **Mercy sake's alive, everyone! There's a possible enemy radio interceptor ship on Convoy Route Six! Arlington, do you have a position?!** )

 **USS Arlington (AGMR-2)** : " _Got it, Sammy! Castle, King, the black-and-white with a chrome dome's doing double-deuce! She's actually on I-5 eastbound a dime-and-nine down the strip from you!_ " ( **I've located it, Samuel B. Roberts. Akagi, Kaga, the enemy radio interceptor ship is doing 22 knots! She's on Convoy Route Five 109 nautical miles ahead of you!** )

 **HIMS Kaga (CV-2)** : " _Ten-four, Robert! Buzzers in the air!_ " ( **Understood, Arlington! Launching strike aircraft!** )

 _"There's Kaga-san..." Mutsu called out._

 _"Sending out an air strike with Akagi-san," Nagato concluded as she jotted some notes down on a handy pad on her desk. "Now who in the name of the Kami are the others...?!"_

 _The others hummed as the chatter continued..._

 _ **Fin...!**_

* * *

 **WRITER'S NOTES** : I didn't translate the phrase **Mercy sake's alive** as that serves as a general catch-all exclamation for CB enthusiasts. It can mean everything from "Good God!" to "Holy Fuck!" to everything else in-between. I'll leave the interpretation up to you.

Now, as for the CB handles:

Samuel B. Roberts: **Scrappy Sammy** \- Do I _really_ need to explain this one?

England: **Deep Six** \- She sank six submarines while in service.

Arlington: **Marse Robert** \- Arlington House in the city of the same name across the Potomac River from Washington DC was the family home of GEN Robert E. Lee CSA (ex-COL, USA). "Marse Robert" was the fond nickname his troops always gave him.

Chilliwack: **Stream Clover** \- The word "Chilliwack" is derived from the Stó:lō term _**Tcil'Qe'uk**_ , meaning "valley of many streams". A clover forms the heart of the city's seal and flag.

Wetaskiwin: **Dunking Queen** \- Hey, it's better and more polite than "Wet Ass Queen"!

Haida: **T-Bird** \- The two-headed thunderbird forms the centre of the ship's crest.

Nootka: **Killer Whale** \- An orca rising from the waters forms the centre of the ship's crest.

Akagi: **Red Castle** \- Direct translation of the kanji in the name.

Kaga: **Celebration King** \- Direct translation of the kanji in the name.


	17. A Girl's Name

A little plot bunny that got to me after re-reading _BB_ and _GG_...

* * *

 ** _A Girl's Name_**  
by Fred Herriot

Based on _Kantai Collection_ , developed by Kadokawa Games

Including characters and situations from _Belated Battleships_ , created by theJMPer; and _Greatest Generation_ , created by sasahara17.

* * *

 ** _United States Fleet Activities Sasebo, one spring morning...  
_**  
"Ari-mama!"

Hearing the voice of the young "ensign" who had taken away the hearts of every shipgirl on base, the second of the Pennsylvania-class super-dreadnoughts and the first to return to duty as a shipgirl turned. "What is it Jane?" the copper-haired and heavily-scarred woman in the modified officer's greatcoat and WAVES-like uniform wondered as she knelt before her admiral's only child.

Jane Richardson waved to the smiling florist who had accompanied her to the base's operations room. "This fellow here is looking for someone. I think it's you, but the name on the card is something else."

"What?"

"Sonia Owings."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"W-w-w-WHAT...?!" Arizona croaked out in disbelief.

As Jane gave her a confused look, the super-dreadnought moved to sit on a nearby couch, her scarred face turning a very interesting shade of red as she seemed to fidget. Noting her distress, the florist cleared his throat. "I would assume, Arizona-sama, that is the name the kanmusu's 'hidden fan' gave you in his letter that was published anonymously three years ago?" he gently asked.

Jane blinked. "What letter?!"

"Yes. That's my human name. Sonia Lily Owings."

Jane spun around to stare at Arizona. "Ari-mama...?"

A smile crossed the battleship's face. "You don't know this, Jane. I didn't learn of it until Mutsu..." Here, her eyes sparked. "I mean Chiyoko." As Jane gaped, Arizona playfully winked. "Well, after I was summoned, she showed me a letter all the shipgirls worldwide treasure greatly. It's from some fellow in Japan who was in junior high school when he became quite a passionate fan of the shipgirls after all they've done. He wrote a letter to the editor of the _Yomiuri Shinbun_ , decrying the fact that we weren't being properly treated as 'pretty girls' should be treated." As Jane gaped at her, Arizona giggled. "When I read that, it erased whatever negative feelings I had towards people from Japan because of the war." She then gazed on the florist. "Do you have any other bouquets to deliver, sir, or am I the only one?"

He chuckled. "Quite a number, Ari-..." He caught himself. "Owings-taii." As the battleship nodded, he drew out his iPad to gaze on the list. "Quite a number of girls here. Yamamoto Chiyoko..."

"Mutsu."

"Chihaya Sarah..."

"That's Hiei."

"Hashimoto Junko..."

"Jintsū."

"And Margaret Penn?"

Arizona grinned. "Pennsylvania."

He bowed low. "Let me get the others, ma'am."

Handing the bouquet to the blushing battleship, he bowed again, then ran out to get the other bouquets. Taking a moment to gaze upon the beautiful arrangement, Arizona then perked as one her intelligence faeries quickly whispered what the meaning of the different rose colours meant to her.

Red, light pink, dark pink and yellow.

Respect, admiration, thankfulness and showing one cared.

Maybe she might learn who the shipgirls' "secret admirer" was...!

 ** _Fin..._**

* * *

Now, I'd like to leave this open for anyone to run with. In the universe of my stories, I'd use Moroboshi Ataru of _Urusei Yatsura_ as the "secret fan". But if you want to run with this using either someone from some other series or an OC, please go ahead.


	18. A Girl's Name: Bountiful Unto God

Decided to run a little more with this idea.

* * *

 _ **A Girl's Name: Bountiful Unto God  
**_ by Fred Herriot

Based on _Kantai Collection_ , developed by Kadokawa Games; _Urusei Yatsura_ , created by Takahashi Rumiko; and _Koihime Musō_ , created by BaseSon

Including characters and situations from _Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year_ , created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot; and _Phoenix From the Ashes_ , created by Fred Herriot

* * *

 _ **Tomobiki Senior High School (in Nishitōkyō), one nice spring afternoon...**_

" _Moroboshi Ataru, please report to the Principal's office._ "

Looking up, the lanky teenager with the shaggy hair done in an off-the-collar style and the dark brown eyes perked before he shrugged, then he rose from his chair. "Hai! Hai...!" the so-called "cancer of Tomobiki" — who had earned even MORE interesting curses from his peers in the wake of the effective final removal of the alien presence from this particular suburb of Tōkyō just a month before — trilled to himself as he walked out of Class 2-4, not sparing anyone any glance.

Of course, there were the whispers and the pointed stares from many of his peers, especially all the lifeless fools who still lusted after a certain Oni warlord's daughter and had hoped that things would have returned back to "normal" after the potential threat of someone else wanting to marry Ataru was eliminated. Ataru ignored them. Even if they were nominally led by Mendō Shūtarō, they didn't have any of the real power necessary to help Redet Lum get back to this planet so she could pursue her "darling" anew. And while there were many things about the would-be heiress of Uru's Throne of the Maidens that Ataru did miss, he wasn't in any sort of mood these days to contemplate something as long-reaching as _**marriage**_.

Especially given who his grandmother was...

...and how that one simple relation had helped Ataru drop the equivalent of the Soviet's legendary _Car'-bómba_ from 1961 on the aspirations of many neighbouring galactic powers concerning the third planet of Sol.

Of course, trying to explain it to the idiots that attended this school was a waste of hot air in the end...

...and Ataru had other things to consider right now.

Walking to the main floor, he made his way to the central corridor that connected the school's classroom wings in the centre of an "H" shape copied from many Western designs when Tomobiki Senior High was first constructed in the years of the Taishō Era after the Great War. He was quick to see the school's junior nurse and the senior shrine maiden of nearby Senshōbu-jinja, Sakurambō Sakura, standing near the principal's office, peering intently at the closed door of the elderly chief administrator of the school. There were small crowds of admiring boys standing nearby, questioning looks on their faces as they wondered what was agitating the supermodel-like twenty-something that had stolen hearts among Ataru's male peers as Lum had.

Ignoring her, Ataru walked up to the door and knocked. "Kōchō-sensei?"

"Enter, Moroboshi-kun."

"Hai!"

The door was slid open, allowing Ataru to step inside, he shutting the door before Sakura could move to follow him. As a squawk of surprise and outrage escaped the older woman, a secret smile crossed his face as he moved to stand before the balding Principal's desk, bowing respectfully to the older man. Much that Ataru often got annoyed at the times this man forced his students through nearly life-threatening "physicals" for some of the dumbest reasons imaginable, he did admire the older fellow for his willingness to tolerate a lot of the craziness that had haunted people's lives after Lum declared Ataru her "husband" nearly a year before in the Tag Race, then moved in to live with him at his house full-time.

"You wished to see me, Kōchō-sensei?" Ataru asked.

The balding, bespectacled administrator sighed. "You've been drafted, Ataru-kun," he stared without preamble before relaxing in his chair and sipping his tea. "You'll be representing our school among the civilian aides being called to support the kanmusu at the various bases here in the country so they can better carry out the fight against the Abyssals. Given the potential threat from Lum-kun and her people in case K'ekhech-dono can't get the system secured in time before she gets out of hospital, you'll be relocated to Sasebo on Kyūshū. From what Kirishima-san just told me about the considerable number of bouquets delivered to all the kanmusu currently in Japan and elsewhere, there are many who are looking forward to meeting you. I don't understand why, though." He then gave the younger man a knowing smile. "Though I suspect..."

"There is a good reason, Kōchō-sensei," Ataru noted, then he took a deep breath. "You honour us all by your presence here..."

Here, he paused dramatically before smiling as he looked over his shoulder.

"...Chihaya-hime."

That made the Principal's eyebrow arch. "'Chihaya'...?"

An amused titter escaped the beautiful British-designed fast battleship that was now standing in one corner of the room. Also present was Kotatsuneko, who had his normal space heater-equipped low table set out on one side of the room; Kirishima and the large cat-ghost from the late Meiji era had been enjoying tea when the school's most infamous student came in.

Staring at the fourth of the Kongō-class who was named after a volcano in southern Kyūshū and had been born as a warship in nearby Nagasaki, Ataru was quick to see that she wasn't dressed in her normal shrine maiden-like top with the dark grey skirt underlined with a petticoat and thigh-high stockings that served as her normal sea uniform and work uniform ashore. Much to his private delight, the shipgirl was dressed in a beautiful sweater over a pair of form-fitting jeans; she had even elected to not wear the golden headband that resembled the wings of her pilotage within her square bob-cut black hair. Noting the very interested glitter in her dark grey eyes under those reading glasses of hers, Ataru tried not to blush too much. While the look on Kirishima's face reminded him of the way Lum often looked at him, there was an aura of discipline and maturity in the fourth Kongō-class fast battleship that the warlord's daughter from the planet Uru clearly lacked.

This would be...interesting.

"So my calculations were correct. You ARE the one..."

Ataru blushed. "It was necessary, Isabel-san."

"'Isabel'?" the Principal asked.

A chuckle escaped him as Kirishima came over to stand beside him. "You may remember an anonymous letter to the editor of the _Yomiuri Shinbun_ two years ago concerning how some of the officers of the Self-Defence Forces and our allies elsewhere were treating us on occasion, Tomomichi-sensei," the battleship then stated. "Decrying the fact that our admirals and other personnel were more intent on seeing us as 'ships' without understanding that for all practical purposes while we were not fighting the enemy, we also had to adjust to being human women as well." As the elderly administrator nodded in understanding, she added, "Shortly after that, every shipgirl who had been summoned received letters from the person who wrote that letter, they containing proposed 'human names' for us that we could use once the war's over and we're demobilized. After all, a name like 'Kirishima' would be good for a family name, but having just ONE name..."

"'Chihaya Isabel'?" the Principal asked.

"The same," Ataru answered. "The name comes from Chihaya Castle near where Anne-san's namesake mountain is located..."

The older man's eyes brightened. "Ah! Kongō-san, you mean!"

"Hai!" Ataru affirmed. "Given the girls were designed in Britain, I chose English given names for them. Save Harumi-san..."

An eyebrow arched as a knowing look crossed the Principal's face. "Haruna-san?"

"Hai! It seemed befitting!"

Chuckles filled the room. "Well, since you'll not be able to attend school here anymore, I've had your records transferred to Sasebo North High School. Since you'll be living at the Americans' base, you can continue your education there. I'm sure you'll enjoy the break away from all the interest that's been focused on you because of Lum-kun. Do have a good time down there."

He hummed. "No more mooching monks or shrine maidens. No nagging mother. No so-called 'friends' who'd I swear would sell the planet out if it gave them a chance with my so-called 'wife'. No rich fool and his family. And especially no lying 'wife', her hangers on...and ESPECIALLY her so-called 'most faithful'." As the Principal scowled — he was the only person in Tomobiki outside those who worked directly for Ataru's uncle Komeru or his grandmother Nagaiwakai who knew the details of THAT dirty secret Lum kept from EVERYONE she knew on Earth — Ataru then shrugged. "Well, I best get out of your way then, Kōchō-sensei." He then offered his arm to the smiling battleship nearby. "Isabel-san, may I escort you?"

"But of course..." she purred as she slipped her arm around his. "Teitoku."

His cheeks reddened on hearing that as the Principal smiled...

* * *

"Who are you...?"

Sakura gaped in shocked disbelief as Ataru and his new lady friend walked past her without any sort of acknowledgement to her presence, much less answering her question. As the shrine maiden remained in place while her mystical senses nearly overloaded from the presence of whoever — and WHATEVER! — was now accompanying Tomobiki High's most infamous student, Ataru quietly guided his companion over to the nearby shoe locker so they could get on their outer footwear and depart the school grounds. Fortunately for both of them, most of the boys who had been gathered at either end of the central hallway when Ataru came down to meet the Principal had been chased away by the school nurse and shrine maiden, so there were none of the usual idiots ready to confront him, especially with his being in the presence of a very beautiful woman.

"Moroboshi..."

Sakura then blinked as the Principal came up to join him. "Leave him be, Sakura-kun," the elderly school administrator stated. "As much as I know you're concerned about him, his destiny is no longer meant to intertwine with us. Our delightful guest from Kyūshū and all her friends down in Sasebo will make sure of that." He then took a deep breath. "Which will be a relief of sorts. Much that Ataru-kun did spice things up here, the presence of Lum-kun and her friends on this planet would end up hurting us far more worse than what might have happened if her father actually launched that 'invasion' a year ago."

A snort escaped her. Much that she was personally grateful that she and everyone that had been kidnapped by Lum's friend Shigaten Benten when the aliens had moved to "protect" Ataru from Queen Elle had been returned safe and sound to Earth — though she had no idea by who or why — she was more than convinced that the boy's horrible luck would have him once more dealing with his "wife" soon enough. "Doubtful. Who was that girl anyway? What does she want with him."

He chuckled. "Tennō Heika Gunkan _Kirishima_."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

Sakura was now as white as a ghost. Even if the news of the Abyssal War hadn't played out too much in Tomobiki given the alien presence there over the last year, she wasn't ignorant of events on the high seas. "A _**kanmusu**_...?!"

"The same. Ataru-kun has been drafted into becoming a civilian 'admiral' to help those brave women continue the fight against those creatures." He was quick to fix her with a knowing stare, which made her wince; she knew that many parents had a lot of issues having an active shrine miko act as a school nurse. "Please don't bother with your normal comments about his lack of competence in many things, Sakura-kun. You ARE aware of who his grandmother is, I believe."

As the nurse/shrine maiden jolted on hearing that, the Principal turned back to his office...

 _ **To Be Continued...?**_

* * *

Quick translation: **Tennō Heika Gunkan** — Literally "Warship of His Majesty the Heavenly Sovereign". Since Western naval historians love to stick either "HIMS" (His Imperial Majesty's Ship) or "HIJMS" (His Imperial Majesty's Japanese Ship) as a ship prefix before a vessel's name, I elected to make a local translation of same. Note that the Imperial Navy never used ship prefixes as Western navies often do.


	19. A Girl's Name: By The Emperor's Command

A little something more along this vein...

* * *

 _ **A Girl's Name: By The Emperor's Command  
**_ by Fred Herriot

Based on _Kantai Collection_ , developed by Kadokawa Games; and _Urusei Yatsura_ , created by Takahashi Rumiko

Including characters and situations from _Belated Battleships_ , created by theJMPer; _Greatest Generation_ , created by sasahara17; and _Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year_ , created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot

* * *

 _ **United States Fleet Activities Sasebo, one late spring afternoon...**_

"Hey, Teitoku!"

Hearing that cheerful greeting from the slender carrier with the silver hair in side pigtails, the young man now in a white gakuran uniform paused before he gave the newcomer a smile. "Konnichi wa, Zuikaku-san," Moroboshi Ataru said with a slight twist of his lips on addressing the second of the Shōkaku-class armoured carriers by her ship name in lieu of the name he had personally suggested for her when he wrote a letter the _Yomiuri Shinbun_ two years before, Matsubara Suzue.

The reason for that still honestly didn't many any sense to him, Ataru mused as he opened the locked door to his private office, which was located in one quiet corner of the large building that overlooked the basin where American warships had docked whenever they visited the port in more peaceful times. Waving his current guest inside the space, he headed over to the desk set off to one corner of the room. The space had been set aside for some senior officer under the command of Rear Admiral John Richardson before the Abyssals launched their general offensive on humanity ages before; said fellow had been killed in the Battle of Iō-tō four years ago and no replacement had been provided by Washington.

Ataru shook his head in amusement as Zuikaku moved to sit down in front of his desk while he moved to pull out his homework from his bookbag; even if the staff at Sasebo North High School were aware of his duties as a "volunteer boatswain's mate" for the shipgirls based out of the port, they still wanted him to pass out of the second year of high school and move on to prepare himself for the Centre Test. Fortunately, unlike his time at Tomobiki High, the teachers there were more caring about their students, gladly going out of their way to help with academic issues when required.

Taking a deep breath, he then concentrated on the very beautiful girl now seated before him. "Suzue-chan, why is it you guys always don't like the idea of people addressing you with your human names in public?" he teasingly asked.

She shrugged as she gave him a wanting look. "Because they're special," she said as she arched one leg up to allow him a clear view of the black lace panties she had on underneath her pleated skirt. As he slightly blushed at such a provocative show of barely covered skin masking her very human nexus, she added, "You're the first normal person who ever screamed out to the whole world that we're more than just warships brought back in human form. Sure, there are relationships now developing between shipgirls and normal people, but you were the first one to really make our situation public even if you were still in middle school at the time." A smile crossed her face. "We all love you for that, Ataru-kun."

He gazed at her, then looked down at the homework he was supposed to do. A glance back at her, then he smirked as he stood up. "Ready for our date tonight?" he asked. The homework could wait.

"Just need to get changed," she purred.

"I better make sure you dress ship properly."

Hearing that made her squeal in delight as she rose up and walked into his arms, their lips seeking out the other person's...

* * *

 _ **Downtown Sasebo, after supper...**_

To the normal passer-by, the cute couple now relaxing themselves at a rāmen restaurant across the river from Nimitz Park were just a normal pair of high school students enjoying time away from regular classes or after-school juken. The man was a slender track-runner type with shaggy brown hair in an off-the-collar style with bangs combed over his forehead, dark brown eyes peeking out of a rather normal face. His date had long slate-grate hair done in cute side pigtails over her ears, eyes the shade of pure jade peeking out of a slender yet very cute face. They were dressed in somewhat stylish civilian clothing as they enjoyed the hearty noodle broth that had just been served by one of the waitresses.

To the dark brown, almost all-seeing eyes of the fifth of the New Orleans-class heavy cruisers, both of those people were as different from normal humans as day was from night.

 _ **She**_ had the ghostly echo of a Shōkaku-class aircraft carrier cloaking her like a shroud even if she was in civilian garb, the power, knowledge and experience of the most successful of Imperial Japan's wartime flattops bleeding from every pore of her body even if no normal human could perceive such.

 _ **He**_ had a strange aura around him that was burned with a zest for life and love that was quite intoxicating for the namesake of the City by the Bay to gaze upon. And given his obvious desire to be the right sort of person to make his current companion a happy girl, that made the reborn nisei's heart ache.

Grunting, San Francisco nodded before she crossed the street, then stepped into the restaurant. Nodding her thanks as the owner ritually called out "Irasshaimase!", the pretty woman with the straight black hair in a ponytail and the dark brown almond-shaped eyes moved to sit at the bar where Zuikaku and Moroboshi Ataru were now relaxing.

"'Evening," she called out in English to the other two.

Ataru gazed upon her, then smiled. "Konban wa, Michiko-san."

"Hey, Michi," Zuikaku greeted as her communications suite sent a message to the just-arrived cruiser. «Want in on the fun?»

«Would he mind?» San Francisco signalled back.

«Not at all. He's actually wanted to meet you for some time.»

That made one of the most successful ships in the American Navy blink before she blushed, then she called out for an order...

* * *

 _ **Nimitz Park, nightfall...**_

"Michiko-chan, you're as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs," Ataru gently scolded. "What's wrong?"

Hearing that from the young man, San Francisco sighed before she leaned against him, allowing his arm to gently wrap around her shoulders. As Zuikaku warmly hugged him from the other side, he leaned over to kiss her forehead, making the carrier blush. "Well..." the reborn nisei breathed out before she shook her head. "I mean, don't get me wrong. That you went out of your way to tell people to treat us nice and all that because we're human even if we're shipgirls as well..."

He pulled his arm away from Zuikaku so he could gently touch the American's lips, making her stop as she gazed like a lost child at him. Noting that look, Ataru tried not to give in to an understandable urge to scream out in outrage over this whole mad situation. Forcing the living kami of warships from a very dark time in history to live again as human girls with all the emotional capabilities of normal humans their physical age, yet to not help these girls properly adjust to being human...! Yes, there was the horrid necessity to fight the Abyssals — which shipgirls as a whole were more than well-equipped to deal with — but what happened to them when they weren't out on the high seas performing their duties?

Much less when the war was won and they're be allowed to live their lives...?

Seeing the concern flash in his eyes, San Francisco closed hers as she tilted her head. He leaned in to gently kiss her, making the cruiser swoon in delight at such a warm contact, then she allowed him to pull her even closer to him. Much to the American's surprise, Zuikaku moved to wrap her arms around them both, leaning her chin on Ataru's shoulder as she reached over to gently thread San Francisco's sable hair with her fingers. Shuddering at that warm contact from the carrier, the treaty cruiser could only groan in delight as she allowed his tongue to gently probe into her mouth and play with her own. The two went at it for what seemed an eternity until they gently pulled apart, then he rubbed his forehead on hers.

"Wow...!" San Francisco moaned out.

"It's nice when he does that, isn't it?" Zuikaku wondered.

"Yeah...!"

"What's wrong, Michiko?" Ataru gently probed.

The cruiser blinked, then she sighed. "How'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I'd be nisei? 'Michiko Francine Norton'. That list was made over a year before I was called back to duty again! How...?"

Ataru stared at her, then he laughed. "Oh!"

"How did you know?" Zuikaku then asked.

He winked. "When I was making the list for girls like Michiko, Suzue, I got a letter from someone..." He turned back to gaze knowingly into the cruiser's eyes. "Who claims to be your namesake city's most well-known resident!"

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"The _**Emperor**_...?!" San Francisco squawked.

"Hai!" Ataru affirmed before he drew out his iPhone. After flipping into his notes app, he scrolled down the entries there, then he smiled as he pulled up one particular file before he held out the phone for San Francisco to see:

 _To Our Honoured Friend, Lord Moroboshi Ataru of the Clan Moroboshi of the Imperial Province of Mutsu, 57th Host of the Angel of Terra, the Lady Moroboshi Negako, Grandmaster of the Imperial Martial Arts School of Saikō Jinseijutsu,  
_ _ **GREETINGS  
**_ _In note of your actions on the 11th of March this year within the pages of_ The Japan News _in support of the current war effort, We call upon you to heed Our Proclamation so that Our Will may be done.  
_ _With eternal thanks and with greatest respect to your noble sister,  
_ _We remain,  
_ _ **NORTON**_

 _ **A PROCLAMATION  
**_ _ **WHEREAS**_ _in this dark time for humanity, the noble and living spirits of the great warships of the many nations of the world have been summoned back to fight against dark and devilish creatures seeking humanity's total destruction,  
_ _ **WHEREAS**_ _it is noted that the greatest of efforts is now being made within Our United States to call forth the warships of Our Navy to fight the foe,  
_ _ **WHEREAS**_ _a cruiser that was constructed at Our Naval Shipyard at Mare Island, launched on the Ninth day of March in the Year of Our Lord Nineteen-Thirty-three and commissioned in Our Navy on the Tenth day of February the following year, was named in honour and tribute to Our Beloved Capital City,  
_ _ **WHEREAS**_ _We viewed with great anguish and outrage the actions of the illegal government in the city of Washington when it came to Our Citizens born or descent of the Islands of Japan in the wake of the attack on Our Naval Base at Pearl Harbour on the Seventh day of December in the Year of Our Lord Nineteen-Forty-one, unleashing terrible depravations upon them due only to their ancestry,  
_ _ **AND WHEREAS**_ _the Lord Moroboshi Ataru of the Imperial Japanese Province of Mutsu, fifty-seventh host of the Angel of Terra, the Lady Moroboshi Negako, has called upon all the military leaders worldwide to better treat the reborn warriors of the seven seas as the human beings they have become by Divine Providence,  
_ _ **THEREFORE**_ _We, Norton I, Emperor of These United States and Protector of Mexico, do proclaim that upon her recall to duty whenever Divine Providence does permit such, that Our Warship San Francisco be adopted into Our Family and Clan, christened under the name_ _ **Michiko Francine Norton**_ _, to be treated and honoured for her noble deeds in Our Service against the foes of Our Nation both past and present.  
_ _Given under Our Hand and Seal in Our City of San Francisco,  
_ _ **NORTON**_

"An _**emperor**_...?!"

As San Francisco tried not to break down and weep at what had just been shown to her, Zuikaku looked confused. "You don't have an emperor, Michiko! All you have is a president! Who's this Norton guy, anyway...?!"

Ataru gazed at her, then looked at the cruiser. Both then broke down and laughed, making the carrier blink in confusion...

 _ **Fin...For Now!**_


	20. A Girl's Name: Ataru Does a Summons

And another little add on to the story...

* * *

 _ **A Girl's Name: Ataru Does A Summons  
**_ by Fred Herriot

 _Yuki no Shingun_ (1895), composed by Nagai Kenshi.

Based on _Kantai Collection_ , developed by Kadokawa Games; _The Seventh Carrier_ , created by Peter Albano; _Koihime Musō_ , created by BaseSon; and _Urusei Yatsura_ , created by Takahashi Rumiko

Including characters and situations from _Belated Battleships_ , created by theJMPer; _Greatest Generation_ , created by sasahara17; _Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year_ , created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot; and _Phoenix From the Ashes_ and _Shipgirl Samurai and Super-Ninjas_ , created by Fred Herriot

* * *

 _ **United States Fleet Activities Sasebo, a day in mid-April...**_

" _...whole of Tomobiki-chō is in shock today after the incredible sight of a building being launched like an intercontinental ballistic missile through a SPACE WARP into the midst of a large number of alien warships akin to the_ Kashin _, the flagship of Redet Invader, the Oni warlord who led the 'invasion' on Earth a year ago that was averted virtually at the last minute by Moroboshi Ataru. While many of Ataru-san's former peers from Tomobiki Senior High School here in town are adamant in declaring what happened here to be his fault — though again, as has happened many times before, such accusations are without any sort of concrete evidence to support such claims — the older generations are all now confronting Invader-san's daughter Redet Lum on the front lawn of the school demanding answers. Given the size of the explosion as filmed by local residents during that event, experts from the Self-Defence Forces declare that whatever was inside that building concluded that it had an explosive power many times greater than the Soviet Union's_ Car'-bómba _from 1961..._ "

The mute was tapped. "Way to go, Onē-san!" the so-called "cancer of Tomobiki" mused as he sat back in his chair in his private office, shaking his head. "Poor Lum. Can't run away from all the garbage that _**you**_ ultimately caused..."

He then smirked as a warm arm wrapped around his shoulders to allow him to receive a hot kiss from his current companion. "You must be pleased at THAT particular birthday present, Teitoku," Kirishima mused as she snuggled against him.

"Of course!" he said as he warmly squeezed her waist. "Anything that makes people realize how single-minded folks in Tomobiki can be at times, the better. I'd swear, if they keep charging flank speed ahead like they've done before, somebody from the Middle East or some loon elsewhere will go over there with a bomb-vest to make them ashes in their family crypts!" He shook his head. "I can't protect them, Isabel. I don't WANT to protect them anymore! My responsibility for protecting those idiots came to an end at the Tag Race when I tagged Lum's horns!" A lethal smile then crossed his face. "Now it's time for Lum and all her friends to realize that they're not as wanted here on Earth as they've been led to believe before..."

"About time," she noted, nodding in agreement as she watched the muted wall-mounted television, displaying a scene at Tomobiki High School, where a certain Oni warlord's daughter was being scolded by dozens of older people.

Smirking on seeing her host's mother standing near her would-be daughter-in-law screaming — the fourth of the Kongō-class battleships could lip-read; she knew Ataru's mother was trying to make people realize that everything was Ataru's fault, that Lum didn't deserve that abuse and that Moroboshi Kinshō again wished she never had Ataru in the first place — Kirishima smiled as she embraced her "special boatswain's mate" around the waist. Much that Ataru hadn't allowed the emotional pain from the abuse he had suffered because of Lum's declaring that they were married at the end of the Tag Race a year ago to overwhelm him, the woman known better to Ataru as "Chihaya Isabel" knew deep down how much he still hurt. Uncaring parents, a would-be girlfriend who literally abandoned him when he needed a friend the most, other "friends" who would stab him in the back if it gave them a chance with Ataru's "wife", said "wife's" friends from other planets with all their problems...!

Kirishima shuddered with delight as Ataru tilted her head up so they could kiss...

...just as his iPhone rang.

Moaning, he gazed on the caller ID there, then he sighed. "Great timing, Onē-san!" he hissed before he tapped the button to answer the call. "What is it, Onē-san?! I'm a little busy with Isabel here!"

"It is time, Ataru," a cold woman's voice called back.

Hearing that made both of them blink...

* * *

 _ **Far eastern Siberia, an hour later...**_

"...much better than flying..."

Ataru chuckled as he walked hand-in-hand with a slightly shuddering Kirishima towards the ice-clogged entrance of a small cove located on the Arctic shoreline just to the east of the local village of Neškán, over 150 kilometres from the eastern end of Eurasia; they had been teleported up from Sasebo thanks to a cloaked starship holding polar orbit over Earth; thanks to the planet's electromagnetic fields, it was perfectly hidden from any detection from Neptune or other planets beyond the asteroid belt. Fortunately, even if the sky was still dark because this was some distance north of the Arctic Circle and it was early spring, the air wasn't too cold; Ataru felt warm wearing a parka and fur-lined boots over his track suit. "Amazing that even after all the interest our galactic neighbours show in our planet, they don't bother scanning for other ships parked in orbit."

That made the fourth of the Kongō-class battleships giggle in delight. As Ataru's primary shipgirl "adjutant" at Sasebo, Kirishima was aware of what he and his adopted sister Negako had been doing behind everyone's backs in Tomobiki. In response to the National Diet and the United Nations effectively declaring Nishitōkyō a "special exclusion zone" akin to Dejima in Nagasaki years before — where alien visitors were allowed free reign without any sort of legal controls over anyone who came to visit Earth — the Imperial Palace had Negako move to forge alliances with those powers that opposed the Urusians and their allies. Primary among them were the Noukiites, who controlled one of the largest known star kingdoms in the local cluster. That act had paid handsome dividends, especially when it came to the shipgirls and their war against the Abyssals.

"Venerable Ataru! Revered Lady Kirishima!"

Kirishima blushed as Ataru smiled, then he pulled his hand away from her to render a left fist-in-right open palm salute to the smiling Noukiite major approaching him, appearing like a fair-skinned Klingon from _Star Trek_ in more flowing robes than body armour. "Heaven's most sincere blessings to you, Lord Major," the Terran tag race champion said. "Where is my sister?"

"The Most Venerable Negako is currently with the Revered Ladies Yamato, Musashi, Shinano, New Jersey, Enterprise and Gángut beyond the barrier to view the wreckage of the _Yonaga_ ," the major stated as he waved them to accompany him to a large tunnel drilled into a solid sheet of ice many metres high. "The preparations for the summoning ceremony to call upon the spirit of _Yonaga_ 's house angel is ready to commence. It requires your presence as you are of the blood of one of her crew."

"Moroboshi Kyōsuke, my great-grand-uncle. He was a navigation officer. His older brother was Onē-san's host at the time."

The major nodded as the three made their way through the tunnel to the other side, then they stopped on seeing an ice-caked mass of rusting steel secured in the cove, listing slightly to starboard and slowly settling by the stern into the deep lagoon it had been hidden in for over seven decades. Seeing the unmistakable shape of the hull which indicated this great vessel had been a Yamato-class battleship before it was converted into the largest aircraft carrier conceived during World War Two, Kirishima bowed her head as her eyes teared in horrified sympathy while she recalled what Negako had told her about what had befallen the _Yonaga_ prior to the start of Operation Z, depriving the Kidō Butai of a seventh landing deck and a whole air flotilla of fighters and bombers that could have unleashed a greater level of impact on the Greater East Asia War.

As the Noukiite officer formally saluted the wreck of the great carrier, Ataru sighed as he walked over to where a small group of people were standing close to a hemp rope gangway that led to _Yonaga_ 's old weather deck below the overhang of the flight deck. As his feet echoed on the crushed ice and bare soil, people's heads turned around. "Hey, Ataru!" New Jersey called out with a jaunty salute as Gángut grinned in delight, Yamato and Enterprise demurely smiled, Musashi gave a wolfish smile and Shinano shuddered in anticipation of having the fifth of her class brought back as a kanmusu. "Caught you in the barracks?"

"Funny, Kathy! Real funny!" Ataru teased back as he walked over to embrace the older female version of himself in the black martial artist's gi with pleated hakama trousers. "Hey, Onē-san! Is Yoiko-chan still being a sleepyhead?!"

"She is worried," Negako stated in her normal toneless voice. "Kyōsuke was the last of the crew to fall, about a decade ago. Since the Abyssals are trying to draw in the spirits of slain sailors to power their campaign, Yoiko has concentrated all her efforts to ensure the spirits of her crew were not seduced by the power of the Abyssals." Here, Earth's first true artificial intelligence addressed the long-missing and totally unknown fifth member of the Yamato-class warships by the human name Ataru chose for her, "Itō Yoiko". "Even if she has no physical body now, she has earned a very ugly reputation among them." As the others gazed upon the ninjutsu grandmaster, a ghost of a smile appeared on Negako's face. "The _**Angry One**_."

The other shipgirls gaped on hearing that. "That's the one shipgirl even the most powerful installation types, such as what Hoppō could have become, fear above all others," Enterprise noted. In her human identity as Lieutenant Commander Yvonne Swanson of the United States Navy's Office of Naval Intelligence, America's most successful warship had led the mission that had rescued the child-like Abyssal that had arisen on the island of Unalaska from being forcibly transformed into monsters like the one destroyed at Midway by Japan's shipgirls two years ago. Yamato — to Ataru, Itō Yasuko — had been involved in that mission while Musashi and Shinano — Itō Mutsuko and Itō Shimizu respectively — had helped keep the supplies flowing into Japan from North America, normally alongside New Jersey. The second of the Iowa-class battleships had been given the human name "Katherine Hyde" by Ataru...though, hopefully soon, that would change to "Katherine Crowling" once a certain English literature professor finally got off his duff and proposed to her. "Given the capabilities you learned she has from the Yonaga no Tenshi and the blueprints they held onto all these years, she'll probably be the best carrier Japan's ever fielded."

"Even better than you, Swanson!" Musashi sniped.

The pin-up model American blonde, blue-eyed carrier stuck her tongue out at the ash-haired super-battleship with the brown eyes behind reading glasses. Seeing they were about to launch into another insult session — one that had been ongoing since Yamato and Enterprise had shocked the world by announcing they were dating after they had successfully rescued Hoppō from Unalaska and the Grey Ghost's existence was finally revealed to the general public — Shinano shuddered. "Onē-san! Yvonne-san! Stop that! That's not the proper impression to make before Onē-sama! You should be ashamed of yourselves!"

Gazing upon the tall and curvy carrier with the pony-tailed black hair and the dark eyes behind glasses on a very childlike face, both Musashi and Enterprise blushed as they looked away from the other. As Jersey whooped in laughter and Gángut snickered at the continued comedy of errors that seemed to always haunt the most legendary warships of two nations, Negako sighed. "You best go aboard," she then bade her brother and last host, holding out a beautiful tantō.

He nodded as he effortlessly drew the excellently-crafted dagger from its sheath, then effortlessly bounded up the rotting rope gangway to the deck of the wrecked carrier, uncaring that he might actually snap the lines and go for an icy swim. Once he was on the slightly listing weather deck, Ataru took a deep breath, then he relaxed himself as he allowed recently-awoken ki senses to reach out and scan the intact parts of the ship. He was quick to feel a powerful nexus of ki aft, thus making him turn and walk down to an open hatchway that led into the vast hangar deck of the _Yonaga_. Peering inside, he felt grateful at the fact that the ice that had amassed on the flight deck over the years had collapsed most of the structure, allowing the evening twilight to shine into the space. Noting there were many parked aircraft stowed perfectly there, Ataru then blinked on seeing what appeared to be a Shintō temple of some sort nestled at the forward starboard end of the large space.

Walking towards it, he stopped before slipping the tantō into the belt of his parka. He then clapped his hands to announce to the kami contained within this shrine that he had come in peace, then he stepped inside.

 _Shed the blood...!_

Ataru jerked on hearing that voice echo from all over, then he crouched slightly.

 _Shed the blood, nephew...free her...!_

"Do as Kyōsuke just bade, Ataru!" Negako's voice echoed from outside.

Realizing that he was within a hair's breadth of finally freeing the spirit of the seventh carrier of Operation Z, Ataru drew the tantō out, then allowed it to make a slight cut in the palm of his left hand, the blood dripping to the deck...

" _Yuki no shingun, k_ _ōri o fun de.  
_ _Dore ga kawa yara, michi sae shirezu.  
_ _Uma wa taoreru sutete mo okezu.  
_ _Koko wa izukuzo? Mina teki no kuni_ _..._ "

He then jolted as he felt something slowly form behind him...

" _Mama no daitan ippuku yareba,  
_ _Tanomisekuna ya tabako ga nihon.  
_ _Yaka nu himo no hi han hi e meshini,  
_ _Namaji inochi no aru sono uchi wa..._ "

Turning around, he looked...

...then smiled. "Welcome back, Yoiko-san."

The exceptionally tall woman dressed in the dark green kimono and grey hakama trousers that had not been standing there mere seconds before lightly smiled. "Teitoku," Yonaga breathed out...

* * *

 _ **Tomobiki, the Moroboshi home, nightfall...**_

"...Darling no baka...! Where is Darling...?"

"How dare he abandon his poor wife in her time of need?! I wish I never had him!"

"Bastard! Once we find him, we'll torture him for hours...!"

Shuddering as he tried to tune out the screaming people now crowding his living room, Moroboshi Muchi could only shake his head as he tried to concentrate on the evening edition of the _Yomiuri Shinbun_. As the members of Lum's Stormtroopers and Mendō Shūtarō continued to conspire with each other as to what would happen when they got their hands on Lum's errant "husband" and finally drag him back to Tomobiki — to say anything of the Oni warlord's daughter shifting between moaning in agony and hissing in outrage at this situation — the salaryman could only shake his head. While he had done his best to ignore the insane antics that seemed to cloak his last surviving child, he couldn't ignore what had happened when he and his wife were transported back to Earth a month ago after a forced stay in a hospital on planet Uru after SOMEONE had blasted the roof of the Onishuto Cathedral onto everyone's heads just as Ataru had managed to escape the building.

As to the "who" and "why", no one had any idea...

With Ataru currently missing and no one having idea where he was, the people who had nearly died that day — all the alien guests to the wedding as well as Ataru's parents — had no chance to really learn what had happened save for the fact that all of Ataru's classmates and whatever school staff had been there had been safely teleported back to Earth within a day.

Again, as to the "who" and "why", no one had any idea...

 _ **KK-KRASH!**_

People screamed out as the front door was blasted in with the force of a cannon shot, then heads snapped over...

...before howls of mortal terror escaped all the people there save Muchi as a terror in white and black walked into the room, stopping to look into the living room with eyes that glowed crimson. " _ **IT'S AN ABYSSAL!**_ " Miyake Shinobu shrieked.

The others screamed just as a whole squadron's worth of bombers and fighters raced in after their princess, weapons blazing...

* * *

 _ **Downtown Tomobiki, minutes later...**_

Ataru smiled in contentment as he heard the distant thunder of bombs and machine guns go off from the direction of his old family home. As people nearby all whispered in terror as they looked towards the Moroboshi home, then gazed upon the man now surrounded by what had to be a small fleet of shipgirls, he could only shake his head.

"A most interesting tactic, Teitoku. My compliments."

Ataru gazed up at Yonaga's slender yet well-shaped face, which reminded him a little of Kaga in a way. Given that the seventh carrier of Operation Z and the fifth (by builder's number) of the Yamato-class warships — Yonaga was, by service length, the eldest of the group as she had been "commissioned" as a naval auxiliary to the infamous Unit 731 over six months before Yamato had been commissioned in the wake of Pearl Harbour — had been effectively manned by her crew until the last of them had died a decade before, she seemed as aged and wise as the older battleships such as Warspite, Gángut or Kongō.

"It was necessary," he said with a sad sigh. "Because the people who had to react to the Urusians' 'invasion' wanted to keep the aliens from interfering with the war against the Abyssals, a news blackout backed by magical 'notice-me-not' fields was set up around Tomobiki. Atop that, since the Men in Black weren't available to help keep things under some sort of control, people like Lum thought they could do anything they wanted to do here. After Onē-san made Kaep' understand what was really going on here, the Noukiites rescued me from my 'wedding' and moved to close off the planet to aliens. Lum managed to get back there thanks to Oyuki-sama's damned warp chamber, but after Hoppō-chan gets through with her..."

The other shipgirls chuckled as the people around them gaped in disbelief and mute horror on sensing how far Ataru was willing to go to forever get rid of his "wife". An amused chuckle then escaped the demure young woman seated nearby, two of her Kuroko bodyguards kneeling nearby as their mistress enjoyed some late evening tea. "Oh, Ryōko-chan," he called out to the younger sister of his chief "rival". "I've got a message to pass on to your grandfather."

"What is that, Moroboshi-sama?" Mendō Ryōko asked.

"Tell him the Promise of Bunka-gonen is fulfilled. Onē-san is her own person."

Ryōko's eyes went wide, then she smiled. "I'll do that..."

 _ **Fin...For Now**_

* * *

 **WRITER'S NOTES**

Quick translation list: **Yonaga no Tenshi —** Angels of Eternity; **Bunka-gonen —** Fifth Year of Bunka (the year 1808).

As for the translation of _Yuki no Shingun_ , go to YouTube and look for "Yuki no Shingun (English Translation)". You'll find a perfect video with the lyrics both Japanese Rōmaji and English there.


	21. A Girl's Name: Slaying the Dragons

And yet another little add on to the story...

* * *

 _ **A Girl's Name: Slaying the Dragons  
**_ by Fred Herriot

Based on _Kantai Collection_ , developed by Kadokawa Games; _The Seventh Carrier_ , created by Peter Albano; _Koihime Musō_ , created by BaseSon; _Men In Black_ , created by Lowell Cunningham; _Azumanga Daiō_ , created by Azuma Kiyohiko; _Sweet Valley High_ , created by Francine Pascal; _Suzumiya Haruhi no Yūutsu_ and its sequels, written by Tanigawa Nagaru; _Stargate SG-1_ , created by Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner; _Harry Potter_ , written by Joanna K. Rowling; and _Urusei Yatsura_ , created by Takahashi Rumiko

Including characters and situations from _Belated Battleships_ , created by the JMPer; _Greatest Generation_ , created by sasahara17; _Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year_ , created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot; and _Magic and Canada_ , _Phoenix From the Ashes,_ _Shipgirl Samurai and Super-Ninjas_ and _The End of the Circus_ , created by Fred Herriot

* * *

 _ **United States Fleet Activities Sasebo, one afternoon at the end of April...**_

"Kyech! What are you doing here?!"

Hearing the fondly exasperated voice of a wonderful friend she made the acquaintance of a year before on the planet Okusei, the pretty woman appearing to be in her late teens by Terran terms smiled as Moroboshi Ataru came over to warmly embrace her. "Hello, Ataru. Are you treating the ch'uongtechhu nicely?" the woman known across most of the galaxy as "She Who Speaks to Dragons" asked after they shared a tender yet sisterly kiss before he waved her towards the front gate.

"Oh, they don't seem to mind," he assured his travelling companion for nearly a year, thanks to a freak time-travel accident unleashed by one of Noukiios' legion of spirit-dragons, which sent the man tumbling back a year, forced to remain on an alien planet to avoid a temporal paradox while his past-self had been subjected to everything imaginable thanks to a warlord's daughter from the fourth planet of Oniboshi. "Matter of fact..." he trilled before looking over, then he smiled. "Roberta-chan!"

Hearing that hail, a smiling brown-haired, bespectacled fast battleship perked, then she waved back. "Ataru!" Roma called out before her brown eyes went wide on seeing his current companion. "Who...?"

He smiled as he moved to do introductions. "My honoured friend, may I present the living spirit of the third of the Littorio-class fast battleships of the Royal Navy of the old Kingdom of Italy, the Revered Lady Roma," Ataru formally began as Roma stood to attention and bowed to the flame-haired, chestnut-eyed humanoid with the noticeable Klingon-like forehead ridges under the thick bangs of her hair and the flower blossom cheek tattoos under her eyes. " _Mio amabile appassionato_ ," he then said in Italian as he then gazed on Roma, making her instantly blush. "My fighting companion at the Battle of Morningstar Plain on the planet Okusei and the Liberation of the Avalonians, a woman I consider both dear friend and teacher, the Lady Seu-P'ye Yesu-Re Hechnich'-K'ekhech of Ait'uch Nehech."

Roma nodded before formally saluting with her hand. "The blessings of the Lord upon you, Lady K'ekhech. Welcome to Earth," she said with proper dignity; the battleship had been informed long before concerning how to treat the natives of Noukiios should fate ever bring any of them before her bow. "In your style, I also greet you with the name our shared friend gave me three years ago, Roberta Ansaldo of Roma and Trieste. I humbly and honourably give my name to you."

Hearing that, the Dragonspeaker gave the reincarnated battleship a traditional left fist-in-right palm salute used by Noukiites when greeting people they just met. "Heaven's most sincere blessings upon you, Mistress Roberta. I am Kyech. I humbly and honourably give my name unto you as well." She then impishly smiled before she gave Ataru a knowing look. "A date?"

"She just helped escort a large convoy over the top of Eurasia and came down to visit me while she's preparing for the next run," Ataru admitted as he waved them towards a smiling gate guard while drawing out his security pass. "Most of the non-Japanese shipgirls who come to the country performing their duties tend to congregate here when they're busy resting up from their missions. She'll be here for a couple days, then it's back at sea escorting a convoy of empty ships across to Canada."

Kyech nodded as the smiling master-at-arms held out a clipboard to allow him to sign the visiting free warrior of Noukiios onto the property. "The hit'kyechtechhu are still seeking to destroy all life here?"

"Sadly so, but we're pushing them back," Roma noted as she held up her guest pass for the guard's attention. After Kyech was signed in and a temporary pass was fixed to her flowing white-and-black battle robes, they were waved through the gate onto the grounds, making their way towards the large building that held Admiral John Richardson's command staff. "Still..."

Ataru perked. "You're feeling _**her**_ still, aren't you?"

"Sì," Roma answered as she returned the salutes of passing servicemen; in the _Marina Militare_ , she was rated _capitano di fregata_ even if Ataru believed she deserved to be ranked one step higher as she was a battleship. "I've always wanted to speak to her. Ask why she performed such an act of mercy the day I was sunk by those damned monsters. But even though I've sensed her in the Pacific and the Atlantic since I was summoned at the _Scuola Militare Navale_ , I've never spoken to her."

Ataru's hand fell on her shoulder to give her a friendly squeeze. As they headed upstairs to the private office the "special boatswain's mate" to many shipgirls now based at or who staged out of Sasebo, Kyech was quick to sense a flash of guilt race through her once-intimate friend's heart on hearing what his new intimate friend said. Sensing he had been made to stay silent about this subject even to the living house angels of the lost warships born before and during Earth's second great worldwide war, the Dragonspeaker kept her tongue as they made their way to the quiet corner office on the upper floor.

Walking inside, he grinned on seeing his two chief "adjutants" relaxing there, with Kirishima standing by the windows looking out onto the harbour and Yonaga kneeling seiza at one side of the room, her personal katana — it was actually that of her late commanding officer, Admiral Fujita Hiroshi; it had been salvaged from her wreck shortly after she had been summoned as a shipgirl two weeks ago — drawn from its scabbard as she moved to clean it with linseed oil. "Teitoku," the fifth of the Yamato-class called out with a nod before her eyebrow arched on seeing the alien woman there. "K'ekhech-dono."

Kyech nodded. "Yoiko. Isabel."

Roma closed the door before she walked over to embrace the third Kongō-class fast battleship. "Isabella! How are you?!"

"Aroused as always," the other bespectacled shipgirl noted before they shared a warm kiss on the lips. Fans of the kanmusu always depicted the two as rivals of sorts, though the girls known better to Moroboshi Ataru as Roberta Ansaldo and Chihaya Isabel were actually very close friends, always chatting with each other over the Internet even when they were doing their duties on the high seas. Thanks to the wonders of modern communications and the Abyssals' total inability to tap into them, many relationships that crossed the once-wide gulf between the warships of the Allies and those of the Axis had been given a chance to flower without the enemy moving to target one of the shipgirls by slaying her lover.

"Sì! Our nostromo is such an addiction," Roma teased as Ataru turned red while he moved to sit at his desk, setting aside his briefcase before he moved to retrieve a can of cola from his personal fridge.

Both battleships laughed as the Dragonspeaker moved to sit on the desk and the aircraft carrier continued to clean her sword. "What are you doing here, Kyech?" Ataru then wondered as he gazed on the Noukiite free warrior. "Even if the banditry issue in the Outmarches is pretty much eliminated, you normally don't go visit other planets on a whim. Did something happen?"

"Nothing of too great importance," Kyech noted as Yonaga focused on her. "Kaep' was able to finally have you declared ineligible to be pursued by either Lum, Amora, Kurama or anyone else with the Galactic Religious Council. As was promised before you were allowed to return to Earth after your past-self was teleported off Uru by Nengmek'i, you were declared a 'servant of angels' by the Council of Elders in Ryekkyuk because of this ongoing battle between your lovers and their friends against the hit'kyechtechhu. To ensure the Oni do not push things, Her Imperial Majesty has declared the creation of an Imperial Commandery that will shield the inner part of this solar system from intrusion until such time as your people have both reformed the Special Committee AND created a planetary defence force, making use of the various alien technologies that were seeded on Earth over the millennia."

"It is a pity we must depend on aliens to defend us from aliens," Yonaga declared. "I would believe Hoppō's actions against the oni and their traitor allies in Tomobiki would have driven the point home."

"It shook them up," Kyech calmly noted as Kirishima moved to make tea and Roma sat on the couch. "With what Ataru arranged with the Yizibajohei by allowing Tariko to live as Coyote — added to the Gifting of people such as Kasuga Ayumu, Elizabeth Wakefield and Suzumiya Haruhi as Infinity, the Academician and the Weaver — the shielding system that will destroy all alien starships and divert attempts by using things such as the Stargate and the Neptunians' Central Warp Chamber from teleporting people to Earth was made operational within two days of Lum being evacuated to Uru after Hoppō nearly killed her. That made the Urusians and their allies finally realize their carefree approach to Earth had to change, especially after Tariko teleported the other aliens resident in Tomobiki to Uru to forever remove that 'exclusion zone' the local government in Edo allowed to be created because the Special Committee had all been but destroyed by the hit'kyechtechhu five years ago."

"Teitoku has already begun the psyops about that," Kirishima noted.

"Oh?"

As Yonaga shook her head, the fast battleship drew out her iPhone, then tapped into Twitter. As the phone automatically signed into her account, she then drew up a message that Ataru had put out last night, then she showed it to the Dragonspeaker. Gazing upon it, Kyech then smiled.

 **Moroboshi Ataru** * YonagaNewNavO Apr 20  
RM Roma coming to visit, planning night excursion with THG Kirishima and THG Yonaga. Friends always welcome! Traitors to the human race WILL BE SHOT!  
 **# TuyukiIsComing  
** **# MotherofAllFightScenesII**

Kyech chuckled...

* * *

 _ **Tomobiki Senior High School, the next afternoon...**_

"Wh-wh-what is th-th-this...?"

For the people who had often associated with the gregarious Oni warlord known properly among the people of his society as "Redet Invader", the sight of seeing him look ready to literally soil his jumpsuit made all of them shudder in horror on realizing that what had been happening over the last month and more concerning his would-be son-in-law wasn't some "aberration" that would be swiftly corrected to allow "normalcy" to be restored to this most abnormal district of Japan.

To some in the gymnasium as they awaited their old classmate, it was the sign of the coming of the Apocalypse!

"D-d-Darling CAN'T kn-kn-know about th-th-THEM...!" a white-faced Redet Lum sputtered out as she gazed on Mendō Shūtarō's own phone, shaking her head in denial. "I n-n-never t-t-told him a-a-about Th-th-they Who M-m-must Never be N-n-named!" She then blinked before her face flushed with outrage, then she spun on her oldest "friend". " _ **DID YOU TELL HIM, RAN?!**_ " she shrilled out as lightning danced over her body, said power causing the phone to explode in her hand.

" _ **NO!**_ " Aruka Ran shrieked back. " _ **DO YOU THINK I'M INSANE, LUM?! YOU KNOW WHAT THE YOU KNOW WHOS COULD DO TO US ALL IF THEY GOT THE CHANCE!**_ "

" _ **QUIET!**_ " Invader barked. " _ **NOW'S NOT THE TIME!**_ "

"Time for what, I wonder."

That was Miyake Shinobu, who was glaring daggers at her once-rival for Moroboshi Ataru. "What do you mean, Miyake?!" Lum's true best friend Shigaten Benten of Fukunokami snarled; like the Urusians who had come to this meeting at Tomobiki High School thanks to the grace of the Imperial Dominion of Noukiios, the space-biker also looked ready to soil her panties.

"'The Church of Lum'?"

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"Th-th-that's n-n-nothing...!" Invader instantly sputtered.

" _ **YIZIBA!**_ "

All the aliens screamed out in mortal terror on hearing that word. As Mendō and the members of Lum's Stormtroopers — to say anything of Ataru's mother Kinshō; his father Muchi was still at work — watched their favourite alien and her companions nearly die of apoplectic fits from the utterance of a simple WORD, the others all stared wide-eyed at the plain-looking teenage girl seated off to one side. "What does that mean, Yon-san?" Fujinami Ryūnosuke then demanded.

Inu Chigaiko's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

The "heir" of the Hamachaya and "son" of the school's current janitor jerked on hearing that cold statement from the "ghost" of Class 2-4, a woman who had been cursed to have her very name forgotten by her classmates and teachers all thanks to her long-buried feelings for Moroboshi Ataru. Even now, ever since Ataru had left school and the actual magic of the curse had been lifted from the star forward of the school girl's basketball team, no one bothered to try to remember her name; they were too used to calling her "Yon-san" from her uniform number.

An amused chuckle escaped the princess of the Karasutengu seated nearby. Unlike the other aliens, Kurama hadn't freaked out on hearing the name of the home planet of "They Who Must Never be Named". "Ah, your dirty little secret's been revealed at last, Lum," the half-Terran woman with the crow wing-styled black hair said as she gazed at the shuddering Lum. "No doubt prompted by the removal of that _**starbase self-destruct device**_ from this town's shopping area just before the young Abyssal princess put you into the healer's cockpit. I assume, Shinobu-san, you got a copy of _The Book of Lum_?"

"I did," Ataru's former girlfriend asserted. "Unlike these _**traitors to humanity**_ here..." — she thumbed the Stormtroopers, all of whom awked in outrage at having that insult applied to them — "...it didn't take me long to realize how much danger this selfish bitch put us all into when she LIED about her 'marriage' to Ataru-kun a year ago!" As Lum squawked in fury at that accusation and the Stormtroopers all shouted on hearing that particular insult applied to her, Shinobu calmly picked up a large table by one hand and flung it at the four boys, decking them in one blow! "So that fleet that bomb destroyed was that of your most powerful ally," she then noted as she gazed knowingly at Invader, making him pale as he realized that some people in Tomobiki were now aware of true events beyond Earth's atmosphere. "With them gone, all your enemies are ready to put you into the dirt again if these Yizibajohei..." — she smiled as all the aliens outside Kurama shrieked in terror — "...don't decide to unleash their 'mother of all fight scenes' on you again!" The smile then turned cold as she added, "I hope that THIS time, they'll finish the job. We've no need of your kind on this planet anymore. If we ever did."

Lum shuddered as electricity began to spark over her...

" _ **SECTUMSEMPRA!**_ "

A bolt of energy slammed into her, causing deep cuts to appear all over her body, making her scream as she was flung by some unseen force to the floor. As the other aliens all gasped on seeing the warlord's daughter dropped, the person who fired that spell repeated herself to knock down Benten and Lum's other best friend, Oyuki of Neptune. While many of the boys who had come to this "peace meeting" all screamed in horror on seeing their favourite alien and her two best friends nearly shredded like that, a woman's voice then barked out in a voice that nearly shattered everyone's eardrums, " _ **SILENCE!**_ "

Heads snapped around...

...then people gaped on seeing the tall and curvy twenty-something Western woman with the shaggy, close-cropped dark red hair and the sea green eyes under sunglasses standing by the main doors. In her hand was a well-crafted wand, which made the boys pale in horror on realizing that this woman was clearly a magical warrior in the Western traditions. She was dressed in a plain black business suit with white turtleneck sweater under the blazer. As Kurama calmly sipped her tea and all the girls in the room gave the newcomer grateful looks for stepping in and putting Lum down like that, Mendō quickly surged up in hopes of grasping her hand and using his charm to win the stranger to their side. "Miss..."

He then screamed out as the sharp edge of a well-honed katana touched his throat, instantly dropping to his knees. As all the girls save Shinobu, Ryūnosuke and Chigaiko tensed in horror on seeing their favourite classmate brought down like that, a voice as cold as the Arctic in mid-winter then declared, "Keep your place, merchant's brat! You have no power here! You money will get you NOTHING at this time! Speak out of turn and you'll be put to death like the DOG you are!"

Heads snapped over to see the woman — as tall as the warrior-sorceress who had just put down Lum and her friends — in the kimono and hakama standing next to the scion of Japan's richest family, a look of cold disdain on her face. As the other boys all smirked on seeing the arrogant Mendō brought down by this shipgirl samurai who had been brought back by Ataru two weeks ago to bring terror on all the Abyssals now trying to starve the country into submission, a back door to the gym opened, allowing two battleships to walk inside, they accompanying a man in a white gakuran. Also with them was a crimson-haired Noukiite free warrior, whose very look caused Invader to nearly soil himself as he tried to surge up and loom over the traitorous bastard who had hurt his precious baby so.

Moroboshi Ataru noted that, a smile that had no humour crossing his face. "Tuyuki is coming."

Invader nearly died of a heart attack on hearing _**that**_ dire statement...

* * *

 _ **Later...**_

"So we'll never see these things again? Is that what you're saying, Ataru-kun?"

"Hai, Chigaiko-chan, that's exactly what I'm saying," Ataru said as he enjoyed the beautiful wine that Roma had brought to the meeting on occasion. "Much that I do understand how hidebound your people are to their old laws, Kurama-sama, I hope that you'll be able to find someone to have your heir with. Since I'm too busy with the shipgirls, I won't have time to spare for you."

Kurama chuckled in amusement. As the still-wounded Lum, Benten and Oyuki stared in dumbfounded disbelief at the man they thought they had known so well — but now realized that they knew NOTHING of at all — the crown princess of the Karasutengu smiled politely. "Well, being declared a Servant to Angels is important among the Noukiites and it is recognized among the civilized races of the galaxy. I wouldn't dream of getting in the way of relations between yourself and these beautiful women with you, especially the living incarnation of your great-granduncle's ship." Here, she gazed at Yonaga.

The carrier tried not to sneer in disgust at the arrogant alien woman who claimed to be the daughter of the legendary Genpei War-era samurai Minamoto no Yoshitsune himself. Since such a claim was clearly absurd, Kurama wouldn't be allowed to visit Earth again after today's meeting. While she had not been as destructive as any of the natives of Uru or their friends from other planets in Tomobiki, her belief in her own superiority over the people of Earth would clearly cause friction in the future, which the Heavenly Sovereign and his allies elsewhere could not afford while the Abyssals were still causing issues. Best to remove the twit from the planet now before she nearly killed someone.

"So why didn't Admiral Gotō or Admiral Richardson come here?"

Hearing that from Ryūnosuke, Ataru shrugged. "They have no time to deal with the arrogant fat slob here, Fujinami-san," he said as he nodded in contempt at Invader, which made him jolt before Yonaga's icy grey eyes fixed on him. "Since the umale from Uru..." — here, he smirked as all the aliens save Kurama paled on hearing that well-known Yizibajohei insult — "...couldn't be bothered to send a proper government official or flag officer to this meeting, they asked me to deal with it."

As the "heir" of the Hamachaya jolted slightly on hearing Ataru address her by family name — which he was also doing with all the other girls save Chigaiko, something that he had never done before and that clearly bothered all the girls, especially Shinobu — Invader shuddered. "Why...?"

"Why what?" Ataru coldly stated.

"Why made a deal with the You Know Whos?!"

The smile turned lethal. "Because they're _**civilized**_!" Ataru answered, making all the aliens — even Kurama! — gape in disbelief at him. " _ **You're**_ the monsters, Fat Boy! I'm not going to waste time with you anymore! For that, you can thank my other so-called 'fiancée' for sending a wedding invitation to my grandmother when she was on Tengsei before I finally was freed from your brat's control a month ago...which, to me, was over a YEAR ago thanks to Nengmek'i-ojiichan!" He focused on the shuddering Lum. "Don't depend on your spacializer to try to change time like you did some months ago, Redet!" As Lum recoiled on being addressed by her overall clan name — which was never done in polite Oni society these days — he sipped his wine. "The Weaver's disabled all Urusian time-travel tech until such time as you all die. Face it: You've LOST! And if I have to ask my sister to unleash Mother of All Fight Scenes Mark Two to drive it home, I'll do it!" As the aliens all paled on hearing THAT threat, he wagged his finger at her. "You should have done your homework," he then sing-songed at her.

Roma and Kirishima laughed as Yonaga smirked and Chigaiko whooped in delight. As Lum shuddered while she tried to force her lightning powers back to her conscious control — that slashing spell she had been hit with by the strange woman standing nearby had nearly ripped off her horn buds, which were the source of her metahuman abilities — muffled wails of outrage escaped the hog-tied boys and Ataru's mother, all now prostrate on the floor nearby. " _ **SILENCE!**_ " the woman in the business suit screamed out, causing everyone save the shipgirls and Kyech to wince. "You mind your Ps and Qs, you filthy traitors to humanity!" she snarled out as she levelled her wand at Mendō and the Stormtroopers. "I'm sure that some nice group like al-Qā'idah or Dā'ish will send someone along soon enough to deal with you for all the trouble you've caused, ever since that stupid incident with the space-taxi that YOU caused, Mister Aisuru!" Here, she focused on Megane, which made him pale on realizing that he had a _**death mark**_ on his head thanks to the fanatics from the Middle East who were still fighting to establish their caliphate even in the face of the Abyssals moving to cut off all oil trade to the rest of the world.

"Teitoku?"

Ataru gazed up at Yonaga. "Hai?"

"Tell me: Did Nagaiwakai-sama approve of your father's interest in the yūjo?" the carrier then asked as she gazed in contempt at the former Yamaguchi Kinshō. "I am aware through my navigation officer's memories that only the Matriarch of your clan can approve such marriages, especially when it comes to her children and future parents of the next Matriarch."

"No, Obā-san didn't care at all for Kinshō," Ataru said, which made his mother shriek out through her bound mouth at the mere mention of the "ageless cow" by her stupid boy. "That's why she'll GROW OLD and DIE ALONE!" He shrugged as Kinshō froze in horror on hearing that declaration. "Unless our wonderful friends from the Middle East decide to eliminate her first."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

Kinshō collapsed on herself as a pained moan escaped her. As all the girls save Chigaiko gaped on hearing that threat from their former classmate, Ataru finished his wine and stood. "Paragraph Ten of the Tag Race Treaty is now in effect for all citizens of Uru for the next two centuries, Fat Boy," he coldly declared, not bothering to look at either Invader or his daughter. "That also includes the idiots on Konton and all other Urusian expats your Imperial Round might try to use to get around that. Anything gets detected that can be traced to you or your allies, the Yizibajohei get to party." As the aliens save Kurama shrieked in horror on hearing that, he smirked. "Thanks to my sister. Which YOU helped create thanks to your stupid lollipop some months ago, Redet! I'm sure your many fans back on Uru would LOVE to hear that the Nightmare of the Mother of All Fight Scenes came back thanks to YOU!" As Lum squawked in horror on hearing that, Ataru smiled. "Elaine-san, hit them with another Sectumsempra before Kyech sends them back to Triton," he ordered. "Madame Fuyujo, warn your father that any attempt at using the Warp Chamber to help the Oni try to overcome what happened will result in the Mother of All Fight Scenes being unleashed on your kind!" As Oyuki gasped in horror on hearing that, Ataru smirked. " _ **Monsters**_ , the lot of you. Let's go, girls," he then bade his three shipgirl companions.

They rose to leave as the stranger woman levelled her wand on the aliens...

* * *

 _ **The Tomobiki Ginza, an hour later...**_

"You know who that woman was?"

Ataru perked on hearing that from Roma, then he nodded. "Hai, Roberta."

"Who is she?" Yonaga asked.

"I can't say, Yoiko-san."

"Can't or won't?" the carrier asked.

"Can't."

Hearing that, the three shipgirls nodded before they turned back to the rāmen they were served. "So will this drive the aliens away once and for all, Ataru?" Kirishima asked after slurping some noodles.

"Most likely, Isabel," he answered with a tired sigh. "Unlike other alien races — even the local superpowers like the Noukiites — the Yizibajohei are the real demons in the eyes of the Oni. Given how much Invader and Lum both freaked on noting that I had found out about them, it was easy to confirm what I've long believed about their intentions from the Tag Race onward: Keep us pig-ignorant of the realities of the galaxy beyond Earth. Lucky thing that Ojii-chan intervened like he did; if he didn't and Onē-san found some other way to see the Promise fulfilled...!"

He tried not to shudder as he considered what Moroboshi Negako might have done had she gained enough ki energy to take control of Ataru's body when the time finally came, then strove to assert her independence once and for all time with a woman like Redet Lum around to try to stop her. "These aliens are yakuza," Yonaga noted. "Such beings always trip themselves up in the end because they have no honour and no concept of honour. Because of their lack of respect for the proper things in life, they begged to have someone put them down like the rabid dogs they are." She then smirked. "Interesting tactic, Teitoku. Threatening them with bandits from the Middle East to make the would-be traitors to humanity in this town finally give up their perverted fantasies concerning your 'wife'..."

"I'm not defending them anymore, Yoiko-san," he coldly declared. "Not even people like Shinobu and Ryūnosuke. Chigaiko-chan's going to move to Sasebo with her family soon enough. Why Ryūnosuke doesn't just poison her stupid old man once and for all, I'll never understand. She's neither a boy or a girl; she's some asexual thing that's been too beaten down by her old man to try to change." He then sighed. "As for Shinobu, she made her choice a long time ago. Yeah, I was often at fault for a lot of things, but she never had any right to assume she could judge me for _**everything**_ I did. If she can't see that people won't conform to her narrow-minded worldview, then she's as much a monster as Lum was." He shrugged. "I'll miss the good things about them, but I won't let them in my life anymore. I've got more important things to worry about than placating a bunch of stupid kids who can't see the forest for all the trees in front of them. I've outgrown all the crap that I allowed myself to wallow in for so long. Morningstar Plain and freeing the Avalonians saw to that. I can't help them if they don't want to be helped anymore." He then smirked. "Ah, enough of that! Let's eat!"

As Yonaga nodded and Kirishima whooped before they dived into their rāmen, Roma sighed...

...before she perked on sensing some set of Big Eyes fall on her. As the faeries inside her focused her optics to starboard aft, she was quick to sense the strange woman in the business suit standing some distance away, gazing in amusement at the two battleships, the carrier and the lone human man at the yatai enjoying a late night dinner. Looking over, the adopted native of Rome and Trieste blinked as the taller woman gave her a jaunty salute, then turned to head away.

Roma's brown eyes then went wide on seeing the ghostly aura of this woman's massive ship-self form around her before she faded fully into the darkness like some ghost.

The aura of the very same mysterious warship that had saved half her drowning crew on 9 September 1943 off the coast of Sardinia in the wake of the Fascist surrender.

 _Assassino Leviatano...!_

 _ **Fin...**_

* * *

 **WRITER'S NOTES**

Translation list: **Ch'uongtechhu** — House angel; **Mio amabile appassionato** — My passionate friend; **Hit'kyechtechhu** — Abyssal angel; **Marina Militare** — Military Navy, the official name of the Italian Navy; **Capitano di fregata** — Frigate captain, equivalent of a Royal Canadian Navy commander (NATO rank code OF-4); **Scuola Militare Navale** — Military Naval School; **Nostromo** — Boatswain; **Umale** — Same/Sameness; **Yūjo** — Harlot; **Assassino Leviatano** — Leviathan Killer.


	22. A Girl's Name: Recruiting Admirals

A little shorter, this one. Surprises me that, AFAIK, no author who's looked at American shipgirls has looked at this topic:

* * *

 _ **A Girl's Name: Recruiting Admirals  
**_ by Fred Herriot

Based on _Kantai Collection_ , developed by Kadokawa Games; _The Seventh Carrier_ , created by Peter Albano; _The West Wing_ , created by Aaron Sorkin; and _Urusei Yatsura_ , created by Takahashi Rumiko

Including characters and situations from _Belated Battleships_ , created by the JMPer; _Greatest Generation_ , created by sasahara17; _Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year_ , created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot; and _The End of the Circus_ , created by Fred Herriot

* * *

 _ **United States Fleet Activities Sasebo, one Saturday morning in early May...**_

"Welcome aboard, Miss Inu. We're glad to have you here."

Blushing, the rather plain-looking woman — who still appeared quite attractive in the eyes of the shipgirls now standing in Rear Admiral John Richardson's office — grasped the officer's hand. Like her former classmate nearby, she was dressed in a white gakuran similar to the summer dress uniform of the Imperial Japanese Navy of old; this had been universally adopted by all civilian "admirals" born in Japan who had been asked to serve as special assistants to the kanmusu of the world. "I'm glad to be here, Richardson-shōshō," Inu Chigaiko said as she gave the admiral a firm handshake. "Please treat me kindly," she then added in the traditional way, which earned her approving nods from all the Japanese kanmusu present at this meeting.

People applauded as Moroboshi Ataru gave his once-former classmate a reassuring wink. "Were there any problems when it came to seeing Inu-san transferred here to attend school at North Sasebo High, Ataru-kun?" Mutsu then asked him.

"Mendō raised a stink about it once he finally clued into the fact that 'Yon-san' and her family were moving out of Tomobiki, Chiyoko-san," Ataru noted as Chigaiko laughed. "It took him a while to try to find out who she was; even after that curse was lifted when I transferred out, everyone couldn't be chuffed to remember her name. Even the girls on the basketball team."

"No doubt, given the universal attraction those stupid women have for the merchant's brat and how much he loved to play with their hearts in return, they were able to persuade him to concentrate on our new admiral and force her from her proper duties as mandated by the Heavenly Sovereign," Yonaga declared. "Fortunately, Teitoku anticipated such and ordered me back to that pit of treason to make the merchant's brat understand his wealth means nothing these days. He should emerge from sick bay in a month. The despair his 'fans' in Tomobiki felt at such a fate was poetic." As the shipgirls laughed, the Seventh Carrier of Operation Z known among Abyssals as the "Angry One" added, "Atop what Teitoku arranged concerning his sister..."

"The crazy one on Yiziba, Yonaga-san?" Chigaiko asked.

"No, the film replica from last September," Ataru noted. "I told you about what Onē-san discovered after she was able to take the chance and analyze what was really going on in Tomobiki ever since Redet came to be my 'wife'."

The other former student from Tomobiki Senior High School considered that before she nodded. "Oh, right! Somehow, all the ambient magic in town kept the 'souls' of those film replicas the Oni's camera created back in September intact. Once you got hold of some Avalonian bioroid bodies, you allowed them to 'live' again. Redet Danu went up to the asteroid belt to get rid of the Urusian spies that were based there, then have them replaced by Avalonians as well."

"Hai," he affirmed. "Permission to brief my friend in my office, sir?"

"Go ahead, son," Richardson bade.

Both former Tomobiki natives bowed, then they walked out of the room, Yonaga moving to follow them protectively; Kirishima was currently on a mission escorting a convoy from Shànghǎi to Hiroshima alongside her sisters. Reaching the corner office, they moved to relax themselves by the desk. "All the replicas made it through being 'disembodied' without their souls dispersing," Ataru then added. "Danu-chan and Saiko-chan — that's Shinobu's replica — went up to Ceres to take charge of the 'observers' that the Urusian Imperials put there to watch over us. Idiots like Rei's uncle Yethis think that they still can spy on us, but we got a sympathetic ear among the Oni who is willing to not be too snoopy when it comes to what goes on that satellite. The Stormtroopers' replicas and Mendō's replica Tachiko-chan will start attending Tomobiki High soon enough; Mendō's mother is tickled pink at the idea of having another daughter and the guys' mothers are just relieved of the fact that their sons' 'Lum-itis' will be cured one way or another. As for the replica of myself — she goes by 'Moroboshi Hiromi' now — she's with Obā-chan on Rishiri-tō learning how to be the next Matriarch of the clan."

"Rishiri-tō?!" Chigaiko asked. "I thought the Abyssals forced all the people on the island to evacuate to Hokkaidō when they started to really be pains in everyone's asses five years ago! Is your grandma's house still intact?"

"It had to get rebuilt, but people are on the island. With Onē-san's help, all the outer islands are being re-inhabited again."

"The dark sea yōma will be swept clean from the oceans, Teitoku," Yonaga sagely declared as she picked up her laptop computer to scan what was there. Chigaiko was quick to sense the frown on the tall carrier's face; no doubt, she didn't really care for the social and technological advances that had swept through Japan in the wake of the Greater East Asia War. Given her crew's total isolation from society for so many decades thanks to being trapped in northeast Siberia thanks to fallen glaciers, the carrier's Meiji era-like attitudes were easy to explain even if she was making efforts to adapt to modern realities.

Chigaiko shuddered as she gazed upon the reincarnation of the warship that her friend's great-granduncle Moroboshi Kyōsuke had served on as a junior navigation officer. Ataru watched this with a smirk. Unlike most of the other girls who had attended Tomobiki High School at the time Redet Lum was there, Inu Chigaiko hadn't fallen into the typical mindset that had been adopted by her peers when it came to the "cancer of Tomobiki" and all the weird things that happened there. Yes, such had been exacerbated because of the strange curse unleashed by accident thanks to the "Red Cloak" during a certain Hallowe'en party the previous fall, but Chigaiko had always been a far more sensible girl than even someone like Miyake Shinobu.

Atop that, there was an incident when they had been in kindergarten...

"So what exactly does it mean to be an 'admiral'?" she asked. "I mean, we're both in high school and I doubt we'll ever go to the Tōdai or Eta-jima. How can we be 'admirals' when we're not commissioned officers in the Self-Defence Forces...?"

Yonaga made a face. "Must you call the Heavenly Sovereign's forces THAT...?!"

"Yoiko!" Ataru gently teased as he gave the carrier a concerned look.

Yonaga tensed as a blush crossed her face, then she allowed the iron-hard discipline that ruled her crew for decades to settle on her. "We're special morale officers," he then explained as he gazed once more on Chigaiko. "We don't do anything to interfere with military operations; that's the responsibility of the people who were trained to do those jobs. But even if they are the reincarnations of warships from World War Two, they're also human girls, so we have to help them better adjust to being human beings. They're magically-created bioroids, no different than an Avalonian deep down. They have human feelings and desires. They go through puberty, believe it or not!" As she gaped in shock on hearing that, he smirked. "Even more so, Chiyoko-san's now pregnant with Richardson-shōshō's children; she'll be due in a few months."

Chigaiko blinked before her eyes went wide. She had been briefed on the "human names" Ataru created for the kanmusu; she also knew he preferred to address them as such even if the shipgirls only used those names in private among each other or with those humans they loved the most, just as Mutsu obviously did with John Richardson. "Mutsu-san?" she wondered.

"Indeed, Chigaiko-san," Yonaga stated. "Beings born of American pioneer passion and our own Yamato damashii. Once they're properly trained and prepared — if the yōma are still out there — they will be able to sweep the seas clean."

Chigaiko took that in, then she sighed. "Similar to the whole 'dawn of power' thing this other adopted sister of yours went through in her first life, you mean? Advancing human evolution in a way that would help us protect ourselves?"

"Hopefully not to go as crazy as it did when Tariko's first-self lived," Ataru noted before he gazed fondly on Yonaga.

Chigaiko blinked as the carrier suddenly blushed from all the attention, then she started to fidget as he walked over to sit down beside her. Taking the laptop and putting it aside, he then grasped her hands, which made her blush deepen as she seemed to shy away from him. "Yoiko-chan," he then gently teased, which made this living shipgirl samurai visibly quake before she slowly turned to face him. "Do you think Chigaiko-chan's ready to get her first assignment?"

Hearing that, the carrier blinked before the iron-hard discipline settled back upon her and firmed her hull. "Hai. I just hope that our new admiral wouldn't mind dealing with someone who appears to be of African descent..."

Chigaiko blinked in confusion...

* * *

 _ **In the base cafeteria, an hour later...**_

"Poi! She's beautiful!"

"Yeah! I hope Yonaga-sempai will teach her everything!"

"Is she being assigned to that new admiral?! The one Ataru knows?"

"Don't know!"

Shuddering as the gaggle of destroyers seated nearby whispered away at each other, the tall and slender shipgirl with skin the shade of dark milk chocolate, matching eyes and straight black hair that flowed down to a simple ponytail to mid-back could only blush before she turned back to nibble on the small meal that had been prepared for her. Seated across from her at this time was the third of the Yamato-class warships...even if she technically was the fourth by commissioning date given what happened to Yonaga when she had been administratively made part of the infamous Unit 731 to hide her from Western spies in 1940. "It's alright, Jefferson-san," Shinano stated. "They're just surprised to see someone like you."

The other shipgirl blinked before she sighed. "Still, it is very embarrassing," the fourth of the Midway-class of super-carriers stated with a voice possessing the cadences of antebellum Virginia. Planned as CVB-44, she would have been constructed at Newport News close to Norfolk on the Atlantic coast of the Commonwealth, though the end of World War Two and the lack of construction space forced the order to be cancelled in 1945, without a name being applied to her. When her spirit had been given human form at RTC Great Lakes, she had been christened USS _Thomas Jefferson_ by President Josiah Bartlet in honour of the third president and the second born of the Old Dominion to serve as chief executive; much to the surprise of many, no aircraft carrier had ever been named after the Sage of Monticello throughout American history, so it seemed befitting.

She was at Sasebo to take operational training under the Seventh Carrier of Operation Z...and get her human name, of course.

"Jefferson-san?"

Both Shinano and Jefferson perked, then they turned...

...before they instantly shot up to their feet, bracing themselves to attention on seeing the girl in the white gakuran now standing nearby. "Teitoku!" Shinano called out as she bowed formally to the newest "admiral" of the base.

"Ma'am," Jefferson said as she saluted the newcomer.

Seeing that, Inu Chigaiko nodded as she tried not to pass out at the sight of someone like Thomas Jefferson. Almost as tall as Yonaga — any of the Midway-class ranged between any of the "normal" Yamato-class girls and their once-lost sister height-wise as a human being — the fourth of the Midway-class was a slender girl, though still well-formed in the right places; one wouldn't think of her as "flat" as some other carriers. She had a youthful face, almost as childish in a way as Shinano herself appeared to onlookers. Like American carriers built around the time of the Greater East Asia War, she was dressed in a racy version of the American Navy's khaki summer work dress uniform of the period, with hot pants in lieu of proper slacks to cover those wonderful legs of hers and the shirt not tucked into the pants. An ensign's golden rank bars were placed on her shirt collars. As she was an armoured carrier, she had garish thigh-high stockings layered with armoured plates, coloured blue over red with white stars over it, that bloused into calf-high armoured boots similar to what either of the Shōkaku-class carriers had; her hull number was over the outer flanks of the calves. A garrison cap with her rank was on the table nearby.

To Chigaiko, she was one of the most beautiful women she had ever met...

...and given certain circumstances when it came to the women who had gone to Tomobiki High School when Lum was there...

"When you're done your meal, report to me in my office, Jefferson-san," Chigaiko then ordered. "You as well, Shinano-san. You're both assigned to me by Richardson-shōshō, so I want to spend the evening with you both."

" _ **HAI!**_ "/" _ **AYE-AYE, MA'AM!**_ " both carriers chanted out.

As Chigaiko made a motion to let them return to their meals, the destroyers gaped before they began to chatter away...

* * *

 _ **An hour later...**_

"United States Ship Thomas Jefferson, CVB-44, reporting as ordered, Admiral!"

"Tennō Heika Gunkan Shinano, Kōkūbokan Yonjū-gō, reporting as ordered, Teitoku!"

Chigaiko sighed as she gazed up at the two nervous-looking carriers standing before her new desk; she had been assigned the office next to Ataru's as her work space. As she tried not to openly fidget at the thought of actually being given any sort of real power and influence over such incredible beings like this, the former basketball team star forward took a deep breath. "Shimizu-san. Sarah-san. Sit down," she then firmly stated, trying to keep her voice even.

Both shipgirls took their seats, the surprise on both their faces quite clear. "'Sarah'? Is that the name Admiral Moroboshi gave me, Admiral?" Jefferson then asked in a timid voice, which made Chigaiko gape at her.

 _Holy shit! She's just as nervous about this as I am!_ Chigaiko mentally exclaimed before she took a deep breath. "Hai, Ataru-kun came up with the name after he got news of your reporting to duty at Great Lakes," she said as she got up and walked around the table to sit on it before the two shipgirls. "I heard there was quite the stink in certain circles when you showed up as an African-American. I know that some other shipgirls from your nation wound up the same way."

"Hai, Teitoku, it happened," Shinano noted. "It got Jersey-sempai and Enterprise-sensei really mad when they found out about that sort of thing. All the girls who look Japanese like Iwo Jima-san and San Francisco-san weren't treated that way!"

"I can understand it," Jefferson admitted as a sad look crossed her face. "Relations between the races weren't very nice back in those days, even aboard Navy ships. Normal humans looking like me were segregated from the other crew and couldn't serve in combat positions on Navy ships, so they never go as many chances to fight like their friends in the Army and Army Air Force did." She then gazed on her new admiral. "I heard that Admiral Moroboshi has the habit of basing names of ships who are named after people with their family names, ma'am. I assume I'm 'Sarah Jefferson' now."

"'Jane Sarah Jefferson' is the full name," Chigaiko stated. "Ataru-kun doesn't care for that sort of racist nonsense whatsoever even if he's now slightly turned off dealing with aliens thanks to Redet. Given what sort of nosy bitch his 'wife' was over the last year or so, I can't blame the man." She took a deep breath. "I know about the whole controversy surrounding Jefferson-daitōryō's relationship with one of his slaves; that's the reason Ataru picked 'Sarah' as your middle name since it's pretty obvious that your namesake fathered her children even if some disagree with that conclusion. Given what humanity's gone through because of the Abyssals and the aliens, it's time to let the old hates go and move forward."

Jefferson considered that, then she smiled. "I like it."

"I think it's cute!" Shinano noted.

"Okay, then," Chigaiko breathed out. "Now, I know that Ataru-kun is happy to be quite intimate and passionate with..."

Both carriers' cheeks instantly flared as bright as nuclear bombs.

"Um...forget what I just said," the former basketball team forward muttered...

 _ **Fin...?**_


	23. Shipgirls in 1940s: Yamato's Engagement

This snippet was written in response to a pair of snippets by **_sasahara17_** at the SpaceBattles website under the _Kantai Collection, Fanfic Ideas and Recs_ conversation chat, specifically entry #s 32254 and 32259. In those snippets, the shipgirls were sent back in time to the period just as World War Two was getting good, where history got seriously skewered sideways thanks to their interference. And a certain "hotel" wound up being engaged to the Heavenly Sovereign!

Imagine what the Seventh Carrier of Operation Z might think of that...!

Enjoy!

* * *

 _ **Tōkyō, the Imperial Palace...**_

"Yamato-san..."

Yamato gasped on hearing that cold voice, then she slowly turned...

...before gaping in shock as the much taller woman stepped into the room, draped in a uniform that hailed to what samurai in pre-Meiji days wore when they weren't carrying out official duties, complete with a very beautiful daishō strapped to her left hip. Of course, despite her wearing a green kimono top with a dark slate grey pair of hakama trousers, she had the necessary protective wear on her body that indicated she was an aircraft carrier, complete with the white katakana **ヨ** on the black landing deck-shaped shield protecting her groin. Much to the surprise of the first of her class of super-battleships, this woman ALSO had the dark grey bow-shaped neck choker that Yamato and her sisters all wore, that topped with a beautiful Imperial chrysanthemum right under her chin. She was raven-haired and grey-eyed, possessing a leanness that instantly tugged at Yamato's heart; when was the last time this particular carrier — Who WAS she?! — had something to eat?

"Who is this, Yamato-hime?"

Yamato gasped as she turned...then she gaped as the newcomer dropped to one knee, clasping her hands in a ritual military salute from classical times as she bowed her head away from gazing upon the Heavenly Sovereign. "Heika, this unworthy warrior humbly begs Thy forgiveness for intruding upon Thy noble Palace when she came to speak to her beloved sister," she said in the ritual court language that had been used in the presence of the descendants of Amaterasu-ōmikami for ages.

Yamato gasped at the newcomer's claiming her as a sister; she knew she had one complete sister and two incomplete ones — Shinano and the yet-to-be-named Warship No. 111 — even if there had been a planned fifth of her class, Warship No. 797...!

"This unworthy warrior heard most strange things concerning her sister and came here quickly from Manshū-koku to see that she was well and that no offence had been unleashed upon Thee and Thy noble Family, Heika," the newcomer finished.

The Son of Heaven chuckled. "Be at ease, good warrior," he bade in modern language, which made the newcomer gasp at such a show of humanity from the ruler of Japan. "Your good sister has been engaged in marriage and serve as my second wife due to excellent services she has rendered to my family." As the newcomer's jaw dropped in shock before she recovered herself quite admirably, he added, "Yet, I profess confusion. As far as I am aware, there were only four in her class..."

"Where were you built?" Yamato asked.

The newcomer chuckled. "It doesn't surprise me you did not know of me, my sister," she said before rising to her considerable height — she stood over 223 centimetres high, well over Yamato's 183.5 centimetre height — then she ritually bowed to her overall commander-in-chief. "Fifth of the Yamato-class, first commissioned into Your Service during a terrible time for all humanity, Heika, I am Yonaga," she began, making Yamato gasp in shock. "Even more than my sisters, I was built in secret at Maizuru to give balance and harmony to the Combined Fleet. My size forced me to be affiliated with monsters who would poison the world if they got the chance, bringing shame unto Thee, Heika. Cruel Fate trapped me in ice until the Kami were so kind to transform me into what Thee sees now." As Yamato squawked in horror on hearing that, Yonaga added, "Now I am free to finally serve Thee for all humanity. I know my mind, my heart and my soul, Heika. This is the path forged for me by the blood of my crew. Know that I will never swerve from my path." She again bowed to the Heavenly Sovereign.

The Son of Heaven's eyes closed. "Unit 731, you mean..."

As Yamato shuddered in outrage, Yonaga bowed her head. "With the assistance of the Kempeitai and Tokkeitai, Heika."

He sighed. "Yonaga-dono, please tell me how bad it was."

A warning stare flashed across the large carrier's face. "It will be most unsettling, Heika," she warned.

"From what Nagato-dono and others have told me, it is too unsettling for me to accept," he coldly declared, making both shipgirls stiffen. "Given how much your sister no doubt is fretting over your clearly obvious lack of decent nourishment, Yonaga-dono, let us all be to lunch so you can be properly provisioned, then you will tell me what happened to you and your crew. And explain how on Earth that a NAVY warship was affiliated with an ARMY 'research' unit."

Yonaga smirked. "It is an odd tale indeed, Heika. I pray you also will grant me leave so I may ensure my sister is properly prepared to become your consort. It will..." Here, she tried not to visibly wince, though her clear discomfort was as clear as neon to the Heavenly Sovereign. "Give me the chance to properly accept you as my future _**brother-in-law**_..."

Yamato giggled as the Son of Heaven laughed...

 ** _Fin...for Now_**

* * *

As always, a big nod to **_sasahara17_** for inspiring this!

Another big nod to **_Jaws7_** for providing links to a shipgirl height chart that actually made some sense when it came to determining how high Yonaga would be as a shipgirl. It can be found in the _Harry Potter and the Shipgirls_ conversation chat at SpaceBattles, under entry #30138.


	24. Shipgirls in 1940s: Yonaga & Hamburgers

This snippet carries on the concept of the "shipgirls being moved back in time to the 1940s to change history" theme now playing out in the _Kantai Collection, Fanfic Ideas and Recs_ chat at SpaceBattles. This particular episode takes place after **_sasahara17_** 's short, which is entry #32371 in the chat. As always, a big nod to the man who created _Greatest Generation_ that inspires a lot of my _KanColle_ fanfics. In this short, Musashi was sent to America to open negotiations between a shipgirl-controlled Japan and the United States to make sure the Greater East Asia War (the Pacific theatre of World War Two) doesn't flare up and send Japan back to the Stone Age via air fleets of B-29s. However, 1940s Japan doesn't have Musashi's favourite dishes, including hamburgers...so, while heading to America with Yahagi as escort, she took a pit stop at Pearl to dig into her favourite foreign food.

Naturally, Musashi's long-missing sister Yonaga has something to **_say_** about that...

* * *

 _ **Near Pearl Harbour...**_

"Musashi-san...!"

Musashi and Yahagi blinked on hearing that cold voice, then they turned...

"Oh, ye gods! It's true?!" the third of the Agano-class light cruisers gasped on seeing the colossal mass now standing behind the ash-hared second of the Yamato-class, a rather annoyed look on her face and one eyebrow twitching ominously.

Musashi winced on sensing her younger-yet-oldest sister's VERY disapproving look. "Onē-sama...!" she whined piteously.

Yonaga sighed. "Weren't you supposed to be on your way to Washington, little sister?" she demanded in a voice that seemed to chill the very air around her in the eyes of the people who had been gaping at the sight of this shipgirl version of one of Japan's largest warships quickly moving to fill her bunkers with samples of what she saw as America's staple national dish.

The ash-haired respectable battleship winced. "I was...!"

She then blinked on seeing the slightly pinched look on the converted battleship's face, then she flushed. She thought Yamato had been joking about how little someone who had over twenty thousand tonnes MORE of spiritual mass consumed when it came to eating. " _ **ON**_ _ **Ē**_ _ **-SAMA!**_ " she shrieked out, causing Yonaga to jolt as she felt her sister's quite cute concern wash over her like some tsunami. " _ **ON**_ _ **Ē**_ _ **-SAN WAS RIGHT! WHEN IN THE NAME OF THE KAMI DID YOU EAT LAST?!**_ "

Before Yonaga could retort, she found herself seated beside her sister, a hamburger being shoved right into her mouth...

* * *

 _ **Minutes later...**_

Yonaga was trying NOT to throw up as Musashi moved to keep stuffing hamburgers into her mouth. Much that it was quite hard for her human body to take such rich and greasy food, she couldn't fault her sister for caring.

Watching this from nearby was a recently-appointed CINCPAC, who was accompanied by his chief of carriers and his current aircraft carrier "sweetheart". "Well, you got to admit one thing, Bill," Chester Nimitz mused as he gazed on William Halsey.

"What's that, sir?"

"Big as they may be, they do love each other."

Halsey considered that, then he nodded while Enterprise snickered...

 _ **Fin...For Now!**_

* * *

The joke here is this: In _The Seventh Carrier_ , the crew of the _Yonaga_ were stuck in the Arctic WAY beyond any hope of resupply for DECADES, which — among other things — forced them to go on a very strict rationing regime and adopt to a very harsh life where seaweed and seafood were pretty much the only staples; I don't recall about the rice situation on that ship. Thus, Yonaga the shipgirl — despite her large size — would be something of a VERY picky eater.


	25. Shipgirls in 1940s: Yonaga Scolds Vérnyj

This is another short for the "shipgirls in the 1940s changing history" theme at the _Kantai Collections, Fanfic Ideas and Recs_ chat line at SpaceBattles. Again, this follows one of **_sasahara17_** 's shorts in that theme, entry #32471, which was inspired by the works of the dōjinshi artist **_Ido (Teketeke)_** , whose work can be seen at Danbooru; sasahara17's story was directly inspired by the last panel in Ido-sensei's entry at post #2941140. In that short, Gángut and her comrades came back in time, deposed Iósif Stálin and moved to make a less-corrupt version of communism work in the Soviet Union. Celebrating same with spoils they found in the Kremlin, they are then confronted by Vérnyj (Hibiki), who clearly did NOT like the idea of such decadence being demonstrated by her former fleet mates.

Of course, when Yonaga got wind of things...

* * *

 _ **Moskvá, the Moskóvskij Kreml' (the Kremlin)...**_

" _ **Hibiki-san...**_ "

The silver-haired second of the Akatsuki-class froze as her face turned as pale as a ghost when that certain cold voice washed over her, making her slowly turn before she looked up into the face of the seventh carrier of Operation Z, who had a VERY displeased look on her face. "Y-y-Yonaga-s-s-san...!" Vérnyj sputtered as she felt herself shift back into Hibiki. "Wh-wh-what are you doing here?" she demanded as the Soviet shipgirls gaped in confusion at this very large intruder.

A smirk, half-cruel and half-condensation, crossed the face of Japan's largest aircraft carrier. "Thanks to Rossíja-san, I learned of your coming here to 'keep the Revolution alive'." Here, she nodded to the silver-haired, blue-eyed second of the Sojúz-class large battleships who had escorted her over from Vladivostók, who had manifested with her sisters despite their old hulls being still quite incomplete in this time period. Much to the surprise of the Soviet shipgirls who had served in this time period, Sojúz and her sisters had elected to keep their post-1991 names. "While your resignation from Tennō's service was properly executed, you DISAPPEARED without even telling your SISTERS where you were going! That made Inazuma-san CRY!" As Vérnyj/Hibiki gasped on hearing that accusation, Yonaga's glare turned into something that could melt uranium. "She thought the worst had happened to you! It was by the grace of the Kami that Rossíja-san was in Yokosuka at the time and told me of your emigration! Much that I understand your strong beliefs in socialism and your desire to help 'do it right' in this time period, your loyalty to FAMILY should ALWAYS come first!"

Hearing that, all the Soviet destroyers present glared in disgusted shock at the silver-haired ex-Japanese destroyer, outraged that this one had actually done THAT to her own sisters, who had helped mediate peace between the reformed Empire of Japan and the United States of America. Given how much trade had actually picked up with the Amerikántsy to help the Soviet Union recover from the ravages of the Great Patriotic War — especially in the Ukraine — it had been a very good thing.

"I...!" the silver-haired destroyer hissed as her blue eyes came awash in tears, then she pointed accusingly at the fifth of the Yamato-class. "It weighs on my karma as much as all those decades you were trapped in Sano-wan weighs on YOURS, Yonaga-san!" she barked out, causing the carrier's gaze to soften as a touch of admiration flashed across her face. "Just as much as this time marks my comrades here! Da, if I hurt the others, that's wrong...but you have no right to judge me...!"

Yonaga blinked as Hibiki began to sob, instantly earning her a warm hug from Gángut as many of the Soviet shipgirls in the room found themselves gazing in sympathy at how much their Japanese-born comrade still suffered because of her history in her first life as a war prize turned over to the Soviet Union after VJ-Day. Seeing this, the fifth of the Yamato-class shook her head. "Hibiki-san, when I travelled on the Transsíb here, I saw that your comrades have gone out of their way to remove Stálin's fools and burn away the corruption that has haunted the system here ever since Lénin died, doing their best to make things truly equal as they think it proper. Yes, this party was a little excessive...!"

"A 'little' excessive?" Rossíja quietly coughed into her fist, keeping her voice as low as possible.

The carrier's eyebrow twitched; she overheard that. "But given how much work they've poured in to allow ALL in this long-suffering land to advance according to abilities, will and talent, they're entitled to celebrate every once in a while to savour their victory against the corruption, much less Stálin's insane paranoia! Besides, they went out of their way to share all the spoils they found here with all the staff who worked in this castle! Is that not being true to the _**proletariat**_?!"

Hibiki gargled, then she collapsed in Gángut's arms. Yonaga sighed before she reached down to lift the destroyer into her arms, then she properly bowed to the shipgirls there. "If you'll excuse me, my friends, I'm taking her back to Yokosuka so she can properly apologize to her sisters for her lack of self-control, then take her to America..."

"Why there?!" Gángut asked.

"I found a beautiful place to rest and meditate that might do Hibiki-san a little good, Gángut-san," Yonaga stated. "It's within the mountains of the Diné homeland in Arizona. I'll teach her proper self-control before she's allowed back here."

"Not zalív Sanó?"

Yonaga's eyebrow arched. "Banishing to _**Siberia**_ , Gángut-san?"

The Soviet shipgirls all gazed at her, then they shuddered...

 _ **Fin...For Now**_

* * *

The joke here is this: In Ido-sensei's work where Gángut and Vérnyj discuss what is truly "proletarian" and what is "bourgeois", the old silver-haired dreadnought wins over "Comrade Tiny One" by sharing everything she finds with the destroyer, thus **_sharing is proletarian_**.

Translations: **Transsíb** — Short for **Transsibírikaja Magistrál'** (the Trans-Siberian Railway); **Diné** — Native name of the **Navajo** ; **zalív Sanó** — Sano Bay (AKA **Sano-wan** ), this was the small glacier-lined cove in the eastern end of Siberia where THG _Yonaga_ was trapped in for years as explained in _The Seventh Carrier_.


	26. Shipgirls in 1940s: Royal Canadian Navy

Again, another "shipgirls go to the 1940s and change history" short from SpaceBattles. This one is just a general look at what Canadian shipgirls were doing at the time, inspired by entry #s 32312 & 32409 (both by **_sasahara17_** ) and 32431 (by **_Shaithan_** ). This short also makes reference to events depicted in entry #s 32437 & 32452 (both by sasahara17).

In the universe of this story, the Crown Colony-class cruiser **HMS _Newfoundland_** (pendant 59) was summoned at Canadian Forces Base Cornwallis in Nova Scotia's Annapolis Valley and elected to serve in the Royal Canadian Navy as **_Her Majesty's Canadian Shipgirl_ Newfoundland** because of her namesake dominion's joining Confederation in 1949.

This short was also inspired by a comment made by **_Harry Leferts_** at SpaceBattles about how a famous Canadian novel became wildly popular in Japan post-World War Two. This, of course, inspires the Canadian shipgirl leadership to follow Nagato's "Win the hearts of foreign leaders with cuteness" approach as demonstrated in sasahara17's entry #32437. Here's what happens...

* * *

 _ **Ottawa, the officers' mess at HMCS**_ **Bytown** _ **on Lisgar Street, breakfast...**_

" _ **Thank God for that!**_ "

That was the exclaimed statement from many a Canadian shipgirl when they found themselves back in the days of the Second World War AS shipgirls. Of course, the idea of once again actually facing off against their good friends from Japan, Germany and Italy was quickly derailed when Nagato, Bismarck and Roma moved to eliminate the idiots that had led those nations into Big Mistake Number Two like they did. That would mean that Canada wouldn't have to experience the loss of THOUSANDS of its youth in battles across western Europe — to say anything of that total idiocy at Dieppe! — and could strive to surge forth and forge its place as one of the trusted middle powers of the world.

Fortunately, they had won an ally right away when they came back in time.

Their very own prime minister, Sir William Lyon Mackenzie King.

Given the man's occultist interests and his well-masked spiritualism, he had been the FIRST of the world's major leaders — yes, even before the Heavenly Sovereign of Japan! — to accept the shipgirls' explanation as to what they were and how they came into being without questioning it. Fortunately for everyone, the ghost of his maternal grandfather William Lyon Mackenzie — who had led the Upper Canada Rebellion back in 1837 — had come to him and affirmed that what the beautiful women and insulin-inducing cute children and teenagers represented was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Of course, given how other ghosts had made Parliament accept that explanation...!

" _ **Thank God for MSSB!**_ "

That had ALSO been said many a time in the last few weeks.

Right now, the "Triple Triumvirate" as the Canadian press called them — light carriers Bonaventure, Magnificent and Warrior; light cruisers Québec, Ontario and Newfoundland; armed merchant cruisers Prince Robert, Prince David and Prince Henry — who effectively ran the Royal Canadian Navy were meeting in the officers' lounge as Cape Breton moved to serve some breakfast with the help of some human stewards. Thankful that all of the "post-war" shipgirls who actually been started during the war like the Cape-class fleet maintenance ship now feeding them had also come back in time, Canada's shipgirl corps was in much better shape than they had could have been had it just been those shipgirls who actually SERVED during the war. With Bonaventure's advantages ALONE...!

Currently attending this strategy meeting was the Prime Minister himself, along with his "minister of everything", C.D. Howe. Naturally, the topic was concerning the future of the Dominion in a much changed world than what either normal human was capable of accepting up front. "I've been in contact with our friends in Europe," the Member of Parliament from Port Arthur stated. "With the amount of damage that was done across the continent before you girls came back and Bismarck was so kind to use Saratoga's gift to get rid of Hitler, it will take nations like France years to recover. Once we get our version of this 'Marshall Plan' you told us of passed through the House, industries here will be making money hand-over-fist to get the whole continent rebuilt. Given the Americans' concentration on keeping Russia supplied to prevent this 'cold war' from happening, we have a huge advantage."

"We have to keep links to Japan open, though," Warrior warned with her mixture of Irish, Canadian English and Argentinian Spanish accents, which sounded strange to the Massachusetts-born minister of munitions and supply. "Given the know-how our friends there brought back with them, they're moving now to refit that shipwreck that was their economy to make them so strong, the Americans wouldn't DARE fight them. I have to admit that Nagamon's move to have the Akatsuki sisters serve as her ambassadors to FDR was brilliant. We'll need to hit the charm offensive to get our foot in."

Mackenzie King and Howe both laughed in mirth; they had heard through the "Tin Can Mafia" network maintained among destroyer shipgirls worldwide how that meeting at the White House had gone. Both men had been quick to notice how the Dominion's shipgirls had been moving to manipulate the fear many Canadians possessed concerning the great social and economic juggernaut south of their border to make the necessary changes in the local economy to ensure Canada would maintain some considerable control over its own industries. "What about the movies to recreate this 'computer' technology you girls miss so much?" the Prime Minister then asked. "I know Kitchener, Galt, Prestonian and Hespeler were moving to reform this 'BlackBerry' company that will be in Waterloo..."

"It's been done, sir," Magnificent said with a glitter in her blue eyes. "We should have an initial version of the Internet going within five years with Bretty's and Scotty's help." Here, she nodded to the nominal maintenance shipgirl of the Pacific Fleet in emphasis. "Much that our friends from Japan stole the march when it came to getting into space, we'll steal the march when it comes to reforming communications technology. Given that farce in Nevada...!"

Both politicians howled with laughter; they had heard of what Iowa and South Dakota had instigated in the desert close to Las Vegas some weeks before out of boredom. "And how goes the move to get your namesake dominion into Confederation?" Howe asked the last of the Crown Colony-class cruisers who was named after Canada's future tenth province. "Given how many of the people on the island appreciate the Americans for all the money they poured into the place..."

"It's stupid to allow the Island, much less Labrador, to fall into American hands, Minister," Newfoundland replied with her mix of the patois of her namesake island and Peruvian Spanish accents. "Such would put an American fleet too close to Halifax and could impede trade with Europe in case some right-wing idiots get control of Congress...or God forbid, the White House itself. Mister Smallwood has been able to get the National Convention started earlier than it would have been, with a proposal to join Confederation being put over remaining as a colony or..." — here, she shuddered — "...becoming an American territory. Fortunately, ex-British shipgirls who served with us have been quick to explain to anyone who might want to join Uncle Sam what being an American 'unincorporated territory' ultimately means for their own personal rights." Here, her brown eyes glittered with amusement.

"No ability to elect voting representatives in Congress, much less have any say in electing the President," Mackenzie King mused, which made Howe shake his head as he thanked God again that he had come up to Canada with its much simpler system of electing government officials. "Well, I think we're really on our way. I'd like to hear your girls' proposals as to how we can make things peaceful between us and Japan. Given what their shipgirls did for our prisoners that were taken at Hong Kong, there is a lot of goodwill felt by people here concerning them, but the excesses Lady Kongō and her sisters revealed concerning this 'Unit 731', much less the issue with the comfort women..."

"They need time, sir," Prince Henry stated as she crossed her arms. "Much that our friends there are making one hell of a huge start when it comes to reforms, they have to work through all the effective social 'brainwashing' that had been forced on the populace since the Meiji Reformation. We're moving to help right now with this." Here, she exchanged an amused look with her sisters. "Did you know, Mister Prime Minister, that _Anne of Green Gables_ has already been translated in Japanese?"

"Really?!"

"Oui," Bonaventure said as she exchanged smiles with Québec. "Agassiz and Chilliwack went there to meet the translator so the book can be published with the supplies we shipped them in the first post-armistice convoy from Vancouver. The book should now be published under the local translation of the name, _Akagi no An_. With Naka working hard to reform the entertainment industry there with the help of Disney and the Warner brothers, an anime series should come out soon."

"Is Miyazaki-sensei alive at this time?" Ontario asked; she _loved_ that anime.

The other shipgirls and Mackenzie King laughed as Howe shook his head...

* * *

 _ **Meanwhile, in T**_ _ **ōkyō (local time: Two hours before midnight)...**_

Crown Prince Akihito was wiping tears from his eyes. "What a moving story...!"

"Denka-sama, you mustn't read such gaijin filth...!"

The poor servant — who had BARELY escaped the purge of the Imperial household when the shipgirls came back in time and purged out Tōjō Hideki and his cronies — then gargled as the disapproving glare of the very namesake of ancient Japan herself landed on him. "You are causing Tsugu-chan distress by denouncing this child's story just because the author was _**Canadian**_ ," Yamato coldly declared as more sympathetic palace staff moved to comfort the heir to the throne. As the older man croaked in horror as he imagined what Yamato's once-unknown sister Yonaga would do were SHE to learn of this, a cold smile crossed the face of the chestnut-haired super-battleship. "Would you care to _**deny**_ Akagi-san the maple syrup Québec-san was so nice to send with Agassiz-chan and Chilliwack-chan? Our Canadian friends understand very well what the concept of losing face means! They WILL retaliate if this gift to the children of the land is denied because of such a disgusting attitude! I've never seen Akagi-san happier! Do you wish to UPSET Kaga-san if Akagi-san can't have her favourite food?"

The servant quickly retired almost at the run while maintaining the barest semblance of decorum. Watching him go, the Heavenly Sovereign could only chuckle before he gazed on his own copy of _Anne of Green Gables_. "I must confess, our Canadian friends can be quite cunning," he quietly mused, keeping his voice down so that his children now reading this lovely tale that could — _**Horrors!**_ — even match up to the stories of Momotaro wouldn't be distracted by "adult talk".

"It's necessary, Michi-kun," Yamato noted as she moved to kneel before him and his wife, using his childhood title. "Canadians as a whole — especially those of Québec and other French-speaking areas of the country — fear the beast that lurks on their southern border. This is driving their move to quickly incorporate Newfoundland and Labrador into the Dominion; if America gets the territory, they'll be cut off from Europe." As the Son of Heaven and his wife both scowled at that, she added, "In many ways, they're almost like us: Caught between massive powers that wouldn't really understand their particular situation and would take advantage of them if chance presented itself. That they've stolen the march when it comes to the Internet will force the Americans — especially their shipgirls — to treat them with the respect they've long deserved. Given that segregation is still a fact of life in the old Confederacy..."

"And Lady Québec is African in looks," the Sovereign Consort mused with a twinkle in her eyes.

Yamato giggled. "When Iowa-san comes up begging for a chance to get the Internet hooked up in the states, I can guess Ontario-san's response: 'Get rid of Jim Crow and hang the KKK, then we'll talk'."

Laughter filled the hall within the Imperial Palace...

...then Yamato gasped on sensing something on her radar. "Onē-sama...?"

"Forgive we humble warriors for intruding upon Thee, Heika!"

Everyone turned as a certain battleship-turned-large aircraft carrier came in, accompanied by two of the many Flower-class corvettes serving in the Royal Canadian Navy. Much to the locals' delight, Alberni and Chilliwack — who were nisei in looks, they appearing to be twelve years old in physical age — were in kimonos that were splattered with green maple leaves and beautiful flowers, marking their nation and class. "Yonaga-dono," the Heavenly Sovereign declared as Yonaga ritually saluted him, then he smiled at the two childish coastal patrol shipgirls that served as ocean escorts in the longest battle in the Second World War in their birth timeline. "Ladies, welcome to the Palace. You both look beautiful in those..." He then paused on seeing the VERY embarrassed looks on the Canadian shipgirls' faces. "May I asked what just happened, Yonaga-san?" he then wondered as he gazed hopefully at Yonaga.

"Not our fault...!" Chilliwack hissed as she squeezed her green eyes closed.

"Onē-sama?" Yamato gently probed.

Yonaga sighed. "Nagato-san's delightful little 'tick', my sister," she explained, which made the adults in the room wince while the children all giggled; they had seen those episodes on several occasions when something cute crossed the path of the current prime minister. "Our good friends from fair British Columbia were delivering copies of Montgomery-sensei's book to children in Yokosuka when Nagato-san came down to visit Yamamoto-gensui. She saw them in their kimono...!"

"It's not our FAULT!" Chilliwack snarled.

"What did you two do, Chilli-chan?" the Crown Prince's sister Atsuko, the Princess Yori, then asked.

"IT'S NOT OUR FAULT!"

"Cool it, Wacky!" Agassiz snapped before she sighed, bowing apologetically to the Heavenly Sovereign. "Your Majesty, in the name of His Majesty the King, I formally apologize to you on behalf of myself and my sister here for causing your nation distress. It was not intentional." She took a deep breath before waving her arms in frustration. "Some of those State Shintō idiots were there when Nagamon fainted on seeing us in kimono. They tried to attack us for 'defeating' her when the old folk beat them up, then they declared WE were the 'supreme Kami' of the kanmusu since we could lay HER down!"

" _ **IT'S NOT OUR FAULT!**_ " Chilliwack exclaimed.

Hearing this, the Heavenly Sovereign got the chance to feel the wonderful feeling of planting his face into the floor as all the children there gaped at them and Yamato and Yonaga moaned...!

 _ **Fin...for Now!**_

* * *

Explaining the **Flower-class corvettes** as shipgirls: Think of the Etorofu-class escort ships so far introduced in _Kantai Collection_. They were about the same size and displacement as the Flower-class corvettes (940 tonnes for the Flowers versus 884 tonnes for Etoforu and her sisters). That's how shipgirls like Agassiz and Chilliwack would look, though many would be Western in looks.

And their appearance will, IMO, _**finally**_ do away with the "corvettes are dogs" trope that have appeared in certain other fanfics in the past! Thank Lyna!


	27. Shipgirls in 1940s: RCN Magical Service

And here's another "shipgirls sent back to the 1940s" short, this time looking on the magical side of things. For background information on the **_First Canadian Battleship Squadron_** , you can peruse both **_The Seventh Shipgirl_** and **_Magic and Canada_**.

With a nod to **_IJNFleetadmiral_** , the author of _Gaijin Teitoku_ , for creating the shipgirl version of **USS _Long Beach_ (CGN-9)**.

* * *

 _ **The magical quarter of Tadoussac in Québec, NCSM**_ **Gravé** _ **overlooking HMC Dockyard Tadoussac, one afternoon...**_

"So what happened?"

Erinsville was trying to control the twitch over her left eye as she tried not to concentrate too much on finding the one who decided to shift all the shipgirls then living in the Twenty-first Century back in time right to the climax years of the Wars of Liberation that rocked the magical world as much as the Second World War did the normal world, then unleashing every torture know to her several generations of crew on the bastards for causing such a mess. Like all Canadian shipgirls had done when they came back in time, the veteran of two magical wars had taken to wear a more conservative sea uniform over the sleeveless diver's skinsuit that all had worn when they had been summoned back at CFB Cornwallis or at _Gravé_ and its sister "stone frigate" in British Columbia's Smith Inlet, HMCS _Whidbey_. "Well, once we came back in time and confirmed what happened to us, then learned what Nagato, Bismarck, Roma and Gángut unleashed on Tōjō, Hitler, Mussolini and Stálin, we decided that since the timeline was pretty much FUBAR'd, we'd clean up the messes and potential messes on our side of the security divide and put an end to Grindelwald, plus make sure that maniac Voldemort wouldn't rise."

Hearing that, Bonaventure nodded before sipping the lovely kobaloi ale that a smiling house elf had served her. The nominal flagship of the Royal Canadian Navy was meeting the flagship of the First Canadian Battleship Squadron in the officers' lounge at NCSM _Gravé_ , the Naval Magical Service stone frigate that served as the manning depot for the Atlantic Division of Canada's magical monster-hunting sea formation. "It must be nice to not deal with those awful things now."

"Beamy and Dawny are scouting the potential battle zones in both the Atlantic and Pacific to see if we could trace the places where these things spawned so we could blast them out of existence with Mark XLVI shells," Erinsville affirmed with a smirk as she imagined what Sunbeam and Sundown would do once they located those long-elusive nests that not even Abyssals in their time period wanted to go near to avoid being eaten by the "Hungry Ones". "Beachy's promised to help out when she's able to make herself feel a little more stable being forced to live in the 'age of the squares'," the lead monster-slayer at the Second Battle of Dogger Bank/Battle of Jutland mused before sipping from her own tankard of ale.

"What about Maréchal Yomigawa?" the light carrier asked.

"Well, with Grindelwald out of the way in Nurmengard and the whole of the Magische Reichsarmee freed of that blasted loyalty oath to Hitler, they finished the job they promised the marshal they'd do in Europe to get rid of the main ward stones for that loyalty lock system that's hurt magicals in almost all the colonies," the "grandmother" of super-battleships answered. "With that, European control over the ICW is shattered. Thanks to the raids on MACUSA, President Roosevelt was able to sweep in with Magical Executive Order 9010 to force the stalebloods down south to remember the core tenets of their Magical Constitution. Which basically rips through many parts of Rappaport's Law, especially the amendments to it made in 1914." Here, both shipgirls scowled as they recalled meeting many "no-maj-born" American magicals who had been KIDNAPPED as children from parents when it came time to attend Ilvermorny until MEO 9010 was passed in 1942 outlawing the very practice. "The new Secretary of Magic himself is 'no-maj-born'..." — here, Erinsville made finger-quotes as Bonaventure smirked; the last of the Majestic-class knew how much magicals of Canada hated terms like "no-maj" — "...and while he wasn't a big fan of Regina Mitchell, he was willing to support President Roosevelt's suggestion in supporting a milder version of the proposals for the International Conference of Magical Communities that Marshal Yomigawa put out before the war started."

"What about Maréchal Múrometsa?"

The dark-haired battleship with the green flecks at the tips of her shaggy locks laughed. "She's a survivor, that one. Her future-self gave old Comrade Silver Hair..." — that was many people's nickname for Gángut — "...access to the old NKMD archives concerning how bad the stalebloods wrecked things across the Continent. Soon as she learned about the loyalty oath to Hitler from Gángut, the marshal swept in with elements of the Moskvá Front to snare all the MRA volunteers from central and eastern Europe to hunt down the staleblood traditionalists who might try to resist seeing the ICW change into the ICMC."

"Good. What about magical interference with us?"

Erinsville snorted. Once they found themselves back in time, the battleships of CANBATRON ONE and the ANZBATRON — with help from Yonaga and Long Beach — had been quick to get to every shipgirl base in the world via phoenix flame-travel to see them warded from any attempt by elements of member-states of the ICW to get in there and find some way to force the "strange magical creatures" causing such a massive change in the normal world to comply with the Statute of Secrecy. "Once Prime Minister King spoke of this to Prime Minister Curtin and Prime Minister Fraser, they got the Governors General to release Magical Royal Proclamations that mobilized the Royal Canadian Foresters, the Commonwealth Rangers and the New Zealand Mountain Infantry to block international access to our territories. Those same proclamations declared all shipgirls of the Dominion, the Commonwealth and the Realm 'magical humans' with all rights and responsibilities of same. Since the stalebloods in Europe are busy trying to maintain power against the Siberian She-bear, a joint team was able to get to His Majesty to give him the chance to release a Magical Royal Proclamation that gave British shipgirls equal rights under the law."

"What about Lord Flight-from-Death's early supporters? They'd all be in Hogwarts around this time, wouldn't they?"

"Oui," Erinsville affirmed with a nod. "Argo got to Professor Dumbledore and showed him her memories of the Blood War. Once Riddle had an 'accident', the truth of his ancestry was published in _The Daily Prophet_. Even the most hard-nosed of that lot wouldn't care to support a half-blood _**hypocrite**_ , to say anything of a _**bastard child**_ born from _**love potions**_!"

Bonaventure laughed. Dealing with the many hypocrisies of magical societies — especially in the conservative parts of Europe and America — had always been an amusing side-note to the Abyssal War. Much that magicals had many reasons to stay hidden from normals, that many had developed such a superior attitude to anything "muggle" ended up causing many more problems than it solved in the long term, especially when shipgirl invulnerability to all forms of magic became commonly known. Now the generation that would have endured the world's first magical world war hadn't the shipgirls come back in time would have to be forced through the painful realization that they couldn't stay hidden forever from normals and that reintegration would come sooner than much later. "Well, that's a good sign. How is Long Beach, anyway? Given that she inherited the attitudes of many Americans that had to go through that horrible war in Vietnam, being back in time..."

"Well, since she understands all the things that made that war possible are pretty much up in the air now, she spends a lot of time in Vietnam; she stages out of Pearl or Yokosuka depending on what her inner eye to the Astral Plane tells her to do," Erinsville stated. "She's very good friends with Uncle Hồ and vowed that she'd kick every French 'square' who tried to come back and force their rule over Vietnam into the South China Sea and let the country be what God meant it to be." As both shipgirls snickered as they imagined what the first nuclear-powered surface warship that would have been launched in the late 1950s would have said when she made that vow on meeting Hồ Chí Minh, Erinsville added, "She made a strange friendship along the way, though." At Bonaventure's curious look, the battleship smirked before she sipped her ale. "George Patton."

The light carrier gaped before she moaned. "Oh, Mon Dieu...!"

* * *

 _ **Ya**_ _ **śodharapura**_ _ **(Angkor) in Cambodia, near the west gate of Angkor Wat, a day later...**_

"My God! This is simply magnificent!"

Long Beach smirked as she gazed on the silver-haired Virginian-descent Californian cavalry officer who most American shipgirls thought of as the best of the World War Two generation while he looked around the ancient temple complex that wasn't as old as some places in Europe that George S. Patton knew of through his very extensive study of history and his own reincarnationist beliefs...which actually almost squared perfectly with what all Buddhists believed. "Yeah, Uncle George," the psychedelically-decorated missile cruiser said as she walked over to stand beside the would-be commander of Third United States Army — who had been sent to southeast Asia after Douglas MacArthur had been asked to concentrate his efforts in helping the Philippines recover from the brief Japanese occupation — as they gazed on the beautiful towers of Cambodia's ancient capital city and the main central temples within its walls. "Almost as rad as the Parthenon in Athens. Not as old; the jungle's pretty nasty when it comes to anything men make. But it's the biggest temple on the planet."

Patton nodded. His own spiritual sixth sense — whether or not the man had magic in his ancestry was still being debated among shipgirls worldwide; Long Beach was keeping quiet about that — was quick to confirm what the shipgirl with the ODD way of speaking had told him when she brought him to this beautiful and sacred place. While his feelings towards his past lives always revealed he lived every time in the Western world, he could appreciate the importance of Angkor Wat. Given that, plus his fluency in French, it was easy for Long Beach to suggest to "Grandpa Franklin" to get the man assigned here as America's chief military liaison to the emerging nations in southeast Asia. He had already made friends with Uncle Hồ; the nuclear missile cruiser had showed both men her crews' memories of the bad scene in Vietnam during the 1960s and 1970s after their first meeting in Hànội. While Hồ Chí Minh had been horrified to the core of his soul at how much his beloved nation would have been ripped apart because of the harsh rivalry between Washington and Moskvá — though Gángut was promising that wouldn't be an issue in the future — the would-be great American tank general had been simply outraged at how much political and military command and control had completely fallen apart in the lead-up to the Vietnam War, which killed over fifty thousand brave American troops and who knew HOW many Vietnamese, soldiers and civilians alike.

Besides, anything that kept that self-righteous square MacArthur penned up in Manila was definitely alright to "Uncle George".

And even if he still slipped from time to time when it came to his inbred racism and mistrust of all things not WASP American, the missile cruiser knew deep in her heart that Patton was working hard to overcome those barriers.

All she did when he did slip up was remind him of his other-self's behaviour near the end of the Sicily campaign in 1943.

Despite that stupid movie's bias thanks in part to the memories of his would-be second-in-command and later formation commander, George Smith Patton Jr. was a man with a HUGE heart and VERY deep feelings for the suffering of others.

After he got let into the secret of magic...!

"Tell me, Venerable, what was the significance of that?"

As Patton pointed to one part of the central temple of Angkor Wat, the nuclear missile cruiser blinked on seeing other elderly monks gaze knowingly at her; they had been intermingling with the general's party — all of whom spoke fluent French — as the old horse cavalryman continued his tour of Cambodia's ancient capital. Winking at them — which made the old men smile at the show of passionate support by this living bodhisattva who had come back in time from a dark future to save all of humanity from the monsters of the deep abyss that would have shredded their homeland in a time hopefully never to come — Long Beach canted her head in the direction of Japan. Seeing with her inner eye how much Yamato still continued to fret over Yonaga's inability to eat proper food because of her crew's long confinement in Sano Bay, the nuclear cruiser smirked.

"What is so amusing, Great Lady?"

Long Beach gazed down at the young monk trainee — who had a very powerful inner eye to the Astral Plain himself — before she sighed. "Just thinking of what Uncle George will think when I introduce him to the Big Y."

"The Great Warrior of the Far North? The one whom the Abyssals feared above all others, even the Great Dragon Slayers?"

"Yeah. Given that Uncle Hiroshi was as much a philosopher as Uncle George here is, I think he and the Big Y will really hit it off right away." Here, she gazed up as the warbling phoenix — who kept himself invisible from the normals even if most of the monks had sensed his presence — before the creature flamed out to head right away to Tōkyō. "Yeah, that meet's gonna go down real soon, I'll bet..." she quietly stated before she waved the little guy with her to rejoin Patton...

 ** _Fin...for Now!_**

* * *

Quick explanations: **Magische Reichsarmee** — Literally "Imperial Magical Army" and short-formed **MRA** , this was the official name of Gellert Grindelwald's forces in my stories during the European side of World War Two/Grindelwald's War; **NKMD** — Short for **Naródnyj Komissariát Mágicheskie Del** (literally "People's Commissariat of Magical Affairs"), the name of the Soviet Union's magical government from 1917-52 in my stories.


	28. The Foresters and Saint Brendan Part 1

_**Harry Potter and the Shipgirls**_ **Alt-Verse Omake  
 _The Foresters and Saint Brendan_  
** by Fred Herriot

Based on _Harry Potter and the Shipgirls_ , created by Harry Leferts.

Also including themes from _The Seventh Shipgirl_ and _Magic and Canada_ , created by Fred Herriot.

* * *

 **Note** : You can read the main snippets of Harry's story at SpaceBattles and Sufficient Velocity. This is just an alt-verse side-story snippet concerning a particular magical island of therianthropes named Saint Brendan's Isle, located in the North Atlantic close to the Azores; it was introduced in Harry's snippet #251. This also refers to Canada's magical infantry service, the **Royal Regiment of Canadian Foresters** ( **RCF** ), which was first noted on in _Magic and Canada_.

The time of this story is around Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts, after snippet #340.

* * *

 _ **Geneva...**_

"You can't be serious!"

Hearing that stern statement from his boss, the Chief of Staff to the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW sighed. "Sadly, there's no choice," Babajide Akingbade stated with a wan smile, one that didn't reflect in his nearly-black eyes. "Given the strain the Abyssals are putting on magical defence forces across the Continent, various ministers are recalling all trained personnel. This includes those who were assigned to observation groups in isolated communities. Like Saint Brendan's Isle."

Noting that, the current leader of the International Confederation of Wizards tried not to glare at his current chief of staff. Albus Dumbledore knew that Akingbade had been enamoured with European wizarding culture since before he graduated from Uagadou in 1934 before seeking his conjuration mastery with a British teacher. Unlike most natives of Uganda, Akingbade had actually thought the whole "loyalty stone" concept that had badly affected native African magicals for centuries had been a GOOD idea in the end. Rumour had it that the man had even tried to persuade the infamous dictator Idi Amin to use his executive power to impose a new version of that system on Uganda during the 1970s. The man was effectively an African version of Dolores Umbridge even if he was a "pureblood" by European standards: A hideously ambitious person who was willing to do ANYTHING to gain power for himself. His final goal, Dumbledore knew, was to be Supreme Mugwump...but given the man's inbred mugalophobia — a condition that seemed to be commonplace among radical conservative magicals across the world — the current master of the Elder Wand knew that should his chief of staff get that final promotion if somethings should happen to his current boss, he then would be made to reside over the final collapse of the International Confederation of Wizards once the Statute of Secrecy was effectively rendered null and void by various national heads-of-state.

"I see. How disappointing," Dumbledore then breathed out. "I assume that the presence of the shipgirls born originally from the Dual Monarchy of Austria and Hungary who now help protect that island prompted this decision, Babajide?"

"It did," the younger wizard stated. "I'm not disparaging the bravery of either those ship spirits or the local defence forces. What they did in the recent attack on that island was beyond amazing. But various ministers feel that those who serve the Confederation in such roles could be better used elsewhere. We have no choice but to go along with their decisions."

A reluctant nod answered him. "Indeed, you're right, my friend. Well, then. Much that I personally feel it's wrong to do such, perhaps we could entail upon Edward Stewart to come to assist in this matter."

That made the Ugandan conjuration master stop as he stared wide-eyed at his boss. "Minister Stewart?! Why would the Canadians...?!" He turned very pale as he realized what Dumbledore had in mind now. "You can't be serious, Albus...!"

"I am," Dumbledore stated before he took a moment to allow his personal Occlumency barriers to suppress his continued annoyance at such idiotic reactions when it came to Canada's famous magical militia. Given the standard European attitudes concerning the magicals of Britain's oldest dominion and their overall worldview, the Ugandan's loathing concerning that force was understandable even if it was based on a tonne of lies compounded by decades of a steady campaign by the Canadian Wizengamot and the Ministry of Magical Affairs in Québec City to block attempts by the Confederation from meddling in local affairs. That "intransigence" by the "muggle lovers" living in the world's second largest country had always driven conservative magical leaders elsewhere to distraction...even if attempts at trying to "correct" such behaviour had always died aborning.

Dumbledore knew — and APPROVED — of how the Canadians had gone about doing just that.

"Much that I understand your feelings, Babajide, they have ALWAYS been there for the Confederation and its members whenever they were needed! They've held the line protecting their territory quite splendidly, much better than other magical law enforcement agencies and militias have done save probably for the magical militias of the former republics of the Soviet Union." As the younger man winced on hearing of the modern successor force to the infamous Moscow Magical Front that had nearly burned three-quarters of Europe's magical enclaves to the ground during Grindelwald's War, the current leader of the Confederation nodded. "I fought with the Second and Fourth Brigades in the final advances on Nurmengard in 1945, my friend. Back then, they were just unstoppable. Did you know Gellert modelled his own Schwarze Mädchen after them?"

Inwardly smirking on seeing the mixture of loathing and mortal terror flash across Akingbade's face on hearing him mention the infamous Black Maidens which had served as Gellert Grindelwald's primary strike force in that conflict, Dumbledore added, "Right now, they're at full manning strength thanks to Governor General Johnston's declaration of war against the Abyssals. Twenty-four commandos, each composed of a thousand highly-trained hit-wizards and hit-witches, all comfortable operating in both muggle and magical environments. I'm sure Governor General Payette will be pleased to release the necessary Magical Royal Proclamation that would permit one of the commandos to be deployed to Saint Brendan's."

He ignored the frustrated look that crossed his subordinate's face...

* * *

 _ **On the south coast of Cape Breton Island, a week later...**_

" _ **HALT! WHO GOES THERE?!**_ "

" _ **RIDEAU!**_ "

" _ **SECURE CODE?!**_ "

A hand was waived with fingers twisting in a specific pattern, thus allowing a burst of bright energy to explode in an intricate pattern close to the closed gate that opened into the magically-hidden southern bastion of the Fortress of Louisbourg, which had been rebuilt in the late 1860s to protect the magical village which served these days as the central garrison town for "F" Commando of the Royal Regiment of Canadian Foresters. As he heard several people behind the stone walls whisper the incantations of intricate detection spells to identify the magical signature of the current Master General of the Foresters, Major General Allana Desjardins, Albus Dumbledore smiled before he glanced over to the middle-aged woman in the green camouflage CADPAT uniform who had been recently declared the twenty-ninth viceregal representative of the Queen to the Dominion of Canada. "You were briefed on everything concerning the Regiment, Madame Governor General?"

Julie Payette sighed. "Why is it your country doesn't do this, Professor?"

"Still far too fresh memories of the Wars of Liberation, plus a fear of such forces being corrupted by any movement who wishes to drive the political agenda in a way that hurts far too many in the long term," he answered. "I'm sure Allana has briefed you on the many times someone from Europe or elsewhere has attempted to drive motions to have magical militia forces such as the Foresters outlawed. Even now with our current set of enemies facing us, they still try."

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" the veteran of two missions aboard Space Shuttles _Discovery_ and _Endeavour_ in 1999 and 2009 while working as a member of the Canadian Space Agency then asked as she gave him a sympathetic look.

"More times than you can imagine..."

" _ **SECURE! YOU MAY PASS!**_ "

" _ **VICE-REGAL SALUTE!**_ "

Payette and Desjardins both braced to attention, raising their hands to salute as the blue flag of the Governor General was raised on one of the yardarms overlooking the south bastion, which was locally called "Louisbourg House". After the honours music was played, the gate leading into the bastion opened, allowing an impressively muscular man in CADPAT uniform to step out. His bearing was pure military and the magical aura that cloaked him indicated he had been involved in the War of Liberation; the Nova Scotia-based wing of Canada's magical militia had been part of the Second Brigade, which had been the first element of the Foresters which had deployed to defend Britain during Grindelwald's War in 1939.

Said officer came to a stop before his de facto head-of-state, saluting her. "Madame Governor General, Lieutenant Colonel Harold Leffert, commanding officer 'F' Commando of Her Majesty's Royal Regiment of Canadian Foresters, reporting."

"Colonel Leffert," the Governor General affirmed before everyone in a uniform lowered their arms and relaxed themselves. "Has the Master General explained to you anything about what is being expected of your battle group?"

A smirk crossed the face of the native of one of Halifax's small magical enclaves; he currently resided full-time at Louisbourg, where he had served in civilian life as a cursebreaker employed by the Department of Magical Safety in their local office. "Not really, ma'am. Given Professor Dumbledore's presence here, though, I suspect it's got something to do with some staleblood idiot being a fool, which requires us to ride in to save the day, I suspect." He gave Dumbledore an amused look.

"Sadly so, Colonel. If we may come inside?" Dumbledore asked.

"Right this way, please."

* * *

"Saint Brendan's Isle? Don't they have their own defence force?"

"They do, Colonel," Dumbledore stated before he sipped the tea a house elf steward had made for him. "However, given the bloody nose the locals and their allies who once served Kaiser Franz Josef recently gave the Abyssals, it's a guarantee that they'll face another attack. This time, the enemy will do all to press it through. They expected an easy conquest. Thanks to the defence force — which I understand that retirees from the Regiment have helped train over the years in secret — they got repulsed. According to Admiral Cunningham and his peers, many of the senior princesses who hold the waters close to Europe will not tolerate such a thing, especially if the target is held by 'sparkles'." Here, he shook his head. "We need your help."

"How so?" Leffert asked.

"Your full commando, plus whatever tricks that 'X' Commando can loan."

That made the native of Halifax gape. "That's quite the concession, Professor."

"The magical chocolate that's produced there is sold in Canada," Payette cut in. "Shipgirls under Admiral Harlan's command just love the stuff. I doubt you'd want to disappoint any of the escort groups by denying them their favourite snacks."

"No, ma'am," Leffert stated as his commando regimental sergeant-major, Chief Warrant Officer Clara Jugson of Sydney, laughed. "So we'd be allowed to ask our brothers from Quttinirpaaq to loan some of their wonderful goodies, eh?"

"We should get Maddie Sheutiapik's pioneer platoon to help out," Jugson noted.

Dumbledore perked. "Who is she?"

"The granddaughter of the woman who first deciphered the alien technology that was buried in that fortress that Professor Raeburn found just before we established our prison up there," Leffert answered. "Madelaine Sheutiapik is a master warrant officer and was in charge of maintaining the necessary shielding wards surrounding the Tatlurutit Reserve before we were all called to stand to five years ago." A smirk then crossed his face as the monocle over his right eye glittered. "Of course, she has no real care for staleblood attitudes, Professor. So if any of Professor Akingbade's friends in Geneva — not to mention this one person in London people who've joined us have long complained about — try something stupid..."

"Then it's on their heads."

Eyes locked on Payette. "What do you mean, ma'am?" Jugson asked.

The former astronaut sighed. "There are the legal issues on our side of the line as well, people. Now, since Saint Brendan's Isle was inhabited by British magicals, it could be then argued to be an effective exclave of the United Kingdom. However, its physical position close to both the Azores and the Canaries places it in national waters that is claimed both by Portugal and Spain as part of their extended economic zones. Thus, it's seen as disputed territory."

Leffert moaned. "Oh, wonderful. A magical version of Gibraltar, you mean."

"Exactly. Now, since we received the request, I've spoken to Her Majesty, His Majesty King Felipe and President Rebelo de Sousa about this issue. Since the original defences of the island made it impossible for Spanish or Portuguese colonists to land there in all the years that humans have lived on that island, neither the Kingdom nor the Republic will openly declare the island as part of their territories once Case Morganna occurs." She ignored the slight wince from Dumbledore on hearing the code-phrase used in various governments — including Her Majesty's Government in London — to describe the instant the Statute of Secrecy was made defunct by the repeals of magical proclamations worldwide to wipe out legal support for it through national laws enacted in 1692. "Since Her Majesty's Ministry of Magic has effectively watched over the island thanks to people from Britain being forced to inhabit it because of their transformation into therianthropes, it could be seen as a British overseas territory. But since _Mister_ Fudge..." — here, the Canadians laughed on hearing that honorific applied to the current British minister for magic — "...refuses to allocate any sort of funds to its defence, Saint Brendan will be allowed to go its own way and be welcomed as an independent state once Case Morganna allows it to join the United Nations."

At Dumbledore's delighted nod at that foresight shown by the Canadians concerning future normal/magical relations, Payette then declared, "In light of this and in light of a direct request by Madame Katharine Figg, the leader of the island's provisional government, to help in the defence of her homeland, the Dominion of Canada has been asked by the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the Kingdom of Spain and the Portuguese Republic under the applicable clauses of the NATO Treaty to deploy metahuman defence forces to the Provisional Republic of Saint Brendan in aid of protecting the island from the enemy. Her Majesty has granted me the right to release a Proclamation in Her Name that will authorize this mission beyond Canadian sovereign territory with full freedom of action. 'F' Commando will form a battle group with augmentation by 'X' Commando as the land element of Task Force Saint Brendan. The operation code name will be 'Tralee'."

"Air and sea elements?" Leffert asked.

"Battleship _Argo_ will deploy as the base ship, with full authorization to make use of Mark XLVI warheads in her guns and missiles as the situation calls for it. Two zeppelin girls from 71 Squadron will come along as air reconnaissance, augmented by metahuman volunteers from both the Annapolis Regiment and the Newfoundland Cavalry Rangers flying So-48 Camel II Mark VI aircraft. All shipgirl elements of the Canadian Atlantic Fleet that will be in the area of the island will be briefed on the situation and have standing orders to come to Saint Brendan's if the situation demands it," the governor general stated. "You are Task Force Commander, Colonel." As Leffert nodded — all the magicals in the room could sense the former astronaut call upon the underlying magic of the land as only she could tap into to enforce that Royal Command on the magical warriors — Payette's eyes twinkled. "Use your judgement, help the people there stay safe and keep that chocolate flowing for the little ones."

Laughter filled the meeting hall. "That will be our pleasure, Madame Governor General," Leffert stated. "RSM, my compliments to the company commanders and have them and the senior NCOs muster in the main briefing room."

"Yes, sir!" Jugson affirmed as she rose...

 _ **To Be Continued...**_


	29. The Foresters and Saint Brendan Part 2

_**Harry Potter and the Shipgirls**_ **Alt-Verse Omake  
** ** _The Foresters and Saint Brendan (Part 2)_** **  
**by Fred Herriot

Including lyrics from _Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)_ (1979), written by Roger Waters

Based on _Harry Potter and the Shipgirls_ , created by Harry Leferts.

Also including themes from _The Seventh Shipgirl_ and _Magic and Canada_ , created by Fred Herriot.

 **Note** : This occurs shortly after the first part.

* * *

 _ **The British Ministry of Magic...**_

" _ **YEAH-HOO!**_ "

Hearing that shouted scream from the office of the current director of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, Amelia Bones blinked before she swung herself around, then marched over to peek into the small bullpen occupied by Arthur Weasley and his small staff. There, she stopped and gaped on seeing the current patriarch of the Weasley Clan dancing a happy dance. "Arthur!" she called out...before squawking as he came over and literally swept her off her feet, gay laughter escaping him. "Arthur! Put me down, you insane lunatic! Arthur!" the current matriarch of the Noble House of Bones of Bute screeched while her current companion just stood there and laughed at the sight of the normally-severe witch being treated so.

"Don't mind him, Director Bones. Director Weasley just got some good news."

Remembering he currently had a guest, Arthur stopped himself before he turned and bowed politely to the muscular and tall man standing off to one side, a cup of tea in hand. He had military-short grey-shot brown hair and deep brown eyes, the right covered by a monocle. Turning to look herself, battleship Orion was quick to note his mode of dress: The mostly green-and-black Canadian Disruptive Pattern combat uniform in Temperate Woodland type, looking quite worn, as if this man had lived in that dress for years. Of course, that beautifully simple flag that marked Britain's once-senior dominion was displayed in a low visibilty patch on his left arm, the crown-and-Vimy star of a lieutenant colonel on his slip-on over the regimental shoulder mark **RCF**. On his right arm was a black rectangular patch in the same pattern as all Canadian Army divisional badges, possessing no symbols on it, not even a properly stylized maple leaf in gold or some other colour. A quick glance down to his left wrist showed a barely-masked holster of a similar make to what Amelia herself wore under her robes, the grip of a wand just peeking out from under the fabric of his top. On the desk nearby was a grey-and-black raccoon skin hat, that holding a badge denoting a pine tree over crossed woodsman's axes, that on a wreath of maple leaves topped by the Royal Crown.

Having often interacted with members of Her Majesty's Armed Forces of Canada, the first of her class of super-dreadnoughts was totally lost at sea while she tried to recognize where this chap's home regiment was actually based.

Much less his home formation...

Amelia looked over, then she gaped. "Harry Leffert! What are you doing here?!" she said as a beaming smile crossed her face, then she walked over, offering her hand to the Canadian officer, who took the hand and courtly kissed it.

"The Queen's business brings me here as always, Amelia," the native of Halifax politely stated before he turned, then he sighed. "Commander Orion, my deepest apologies," he said as he braced himself to attention; since his headdress was on the table, he didn't initiate a hand salute. As Orion nodded politely in return, he mused, "I trust something's happened that's forced the Security Service to ask you and your sisters to come visit Her Majesty's Ministry of Magic this fine day."

"Oh, nothing much," the crimson-haired battleship said with a wry smile, her own chestnut brown eyes twinkling in amusement. "Another silly dragon got off the range at that reserve in Wales. Conqueror had to go in there and deal with it."

Hearing that, Harold Leffert shook his head. "Full broadside of Mark Vs, I take it?" he said as his eyes twinkled in amusement.

That made the shipgirl gape. "How'd you guess?"

"My grandfather saw your division in action at Sec-..." He caught himself on realizing that Orion wouldn't know the Canadian name of that particular slug fest. "Sorry. At Jutland. He was part of the gun crew of one of the ships that was protecting the Grand Fleet and the High Seas Fleet from the sea leviathans who wanted to make magical mincemeat of all your crews."

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then...

"The _**Leviathan Homicidae**_...?!"

A wide-eyed Orion was trying not to keel over and faint as her crew of faeries began a mad scramble to record down this incredible story so it could be passed on to the relevant authorities. "Dear God! They were just magnificent that day! They...!" She then stopped. "That's right! Some sailor appeared on my bridge just as the general withdrawal from the battle was ordered by Admiral Jellicoe that night! He actually...!" She closed her eyes. "He _**hypnotized**_ my bridge crew...!"

"For your crew's safety and your survival from that night, Commander," Leffert assured her. "There were over THREE DOZEN of those things swarming the scene from the edge of the Dogger Bank right to the coast of Jutland." As Orion gaped in horror on realizing how close she and her fleet mates came to be ripped apart by those gorilla-like things that always seemed to pop up during major sea battles in both world wars, the Canadian officer sighed. "It was distasteful but necessary. It was also authorized by His Majesty the King." At the battleship's surprised yet approving nod, he then said, "Admirals Jellicoe and Beatty were fully in the know of the involvement of that squadron in the battle, as were Admirals Scheer and Hipper." As the veteran of the Grand Fleet gaped on hearing that those four magnificent ships — including two gargantuan warships that truly epitomized the term "super battleship" long before the Yamato-class were ever built — hadn't differentiated between opposing sides, he added, "My grandfather's crew and the services he was a part of and was attached to were neutral in that war since those things didn't care which ships they attacked as long as they got those ships. And the souls of those within."

Orion winced. Whenever she encountered other veterans of the largest clash of battleships in human history, they always speculated on any possible relationship between the mysterious sea leviathans and the modern Abyssals who were mucking things up worldwide these days. Given the ever-growing working relationships between shipgirls and human magicals, that was being quietly researched; those ships who had been sunk in both world wars and who could remember the sensation of their "dead" crews being taken off them by one of the mysterious Leviathan Slayers were more than paranoid enough about that subject. Yet to believe that Fate Itself had just brought a relative of one of those great ships' crews here today...!

"Are they out there now?" the super-dreadnought demanded.

"No one knows, Orion," Amelia stated as she looked at the smartly-dressed shipgirl. It was "official" policy of the Ministry of Magic to say NOTHING of Canada's magical militia, naval militia or air militia to any shipgirl or any muggle affiliated with them. Mostly, this stemmed from growing fears among worldwide magical leaders that if the shipgirls were able to understand the stories of the Royal Canadian Foresters, the First Canadian Battleship Squadron and 7 (Magical) Wing of the Royal Canadian Air Force, it would just add "another brick in the wall" — to borrow the name of the famous muggle song — to the growing movement to forever reunite muggle and magical. Of course, given how most conservative leaders on the Continent didn't care for the "muggle lovers" of the Dominion and their own reciprocal hatred of all "stalebloods", such was easily done. For the most part, the Canadian Ministry of Magical Affairs made sure their own forces stayed within the borders of their nation.

But if Amelia's old study mate from magical government classes at the Institute of Sorcery and Magic was here now...?

"Oh, bloody hell...!"

"They are still on guard against it, Orion."

That was a smiling Arthur. Hearing that, the lead ship of her class nodded. "Yes, Warspite and the others have told me they've seen those ships out there. The Abyssals don't bother them. Why is that, Colonel?"

"To the Abyssals, the sea leviathans are known as the 'hungry ones', Commander," Leffert said. "As far as they're concerned, my grandfather's ship and the others are needed to keep the 'hungry ones' from eating all the Abyssals."

Hearing that, Orion nodded. She then perked. "Which one?"

"Excuse me?"

"Which one did your grandfather serve on? The big three-stack brute that did the herding, the single-stack one that did the culling, the normal-sized one who got her 'A' turret stove in by one, or her sistership with the wrong-way mainmast?"

Leffert laughed as the two British magicals smirked in delight. He then made a gesture with his right hand, allowing an impressive image to appear over it. Seeing that great ship there, Orion shook her head as she recalled what her crew had seen that drizzly afternoon off the Jutland Peninsula in 1916. Three stately funnels sticking up from a very streamlined superstructure over a well-shaped hull that was 960 feet long overall — nearly half a football pitch's length longer than the largest British warship in commission at that time, HMS _Lion_ — the beautiful tripod foremast topped with fire control directors and a winged flying platform for observers, the tall tripod mainmast flying the White Ensign and a black British ensign possessing an odd emblem in the fly, the four twin turrets in two super-firing pairs holding BL 18 inch Mark I 40 calibre rifles that could hit those blasted things from many miles away, the forest of 12 pounder 18 hundredweight QF guns serving as secondary armament, the wide hull that bled a tsunami of strength and invulnerability to all who looked upon her...

And her name at the stern...

 _Lady Elgin_.

Clearly, Orion realized, she was **Her Majesty's Canadian Ship** _ **Lady Elgin**_.

The shipgirls of the World War Two generation remembered their crews seeing the green maple leaf on the middle funnel.

Of course, the shipgirls of the Royal Canadian Navy knew nothing of any CAPITAL SHIPS serving their force outside the three light aircraft carriers who served as the effective flagships of the fleet, Bonaventure, Magnificent and Warrior.

 _Sodding idiots...!_ the adopted native of Portsmouth in Devonshire muttered to herself as she cursed again the stupid and useless veil of secrecy dividing Her Majesty's Subjects even to this day. "Is she still in commission?"

"She is," Leffert said as he dispersed the image. "Modernized of course to make her even more powerful than Pjótr Velíkij and her sisters when it comes to missiles, plus helicopters and rapid-fire guns to replace the old twelve pounders." As Orion nodded on remembering the one time she had met the modern atomic missile cruiser that had been one of the first Russian ships summoned back as shipgirls, the native of Halifax added, "The Mark Is were replaced by American-designed Mark As before the Wars of Liberation to give her even greater range." As Orion nodded again, the commander of "F" Commando sighed. "She won't be the one off Saint Brendan's Isle for the next while, though."

That made Amelia gape as Arthur whooped again, then he grabbed Orion by a hand and began to dance with her around the office, the super-battleship laughing as she went along; she knew how much the manager of this particular department of the Ministry of Magic was seen as quite the competent fellow and his youngest son had won Warspite's heart, especially after a wonderful present he had got for her before he began attending Hogwarts. "You're deploying to the island?! Why?!"

Leffert leaned over to whisper, "Case Morganna. People are preparing, Amelia."

She blinked, then she sighed. "Oh, Merlin...!"

" _ **YEAH-HOO!**_ "

All four people in the office perked before they turned...

...just as a panting elder wizard came into the room. "Arthur!" Thomas Perkins gasped. "You have to watch out! There are _**Foresters**_ here! Some one's just come along and scared the magic out of everyone in the DRCMC office...!"

The aged wizard then nearly had heart failure on seeing ANOTHER soldier of that particular service standing next to the chief law enforcement officer of the Ministry of Magic, finishing a cup of tea. As the poor man nearly collapsed to his knees as he began to mutter prayers for the evil wizard in the room to go away and leave him be, heavy running footfalls heralded the arrival of the third of the Orion-class, who was now grinning like a cat who swallowed a canary and got away with it.

"I get to keep the dragon! I get to keep the dragon! I get to keep the dragon! I get to keep the dragon! I get to keep the dragon! I get to keep the dragon...!" Conqueror sing-songed as she skipped into the office, dancing gaily away.

Arthur and Orion stopped dancing as they gazed on the blonde member of the quartet of super-battleships who currently acted as a special "monster hunting" squad for MI5, who was laughing and twirling like crazy. "What's going on?!" Orion asked.

Conqueror stopped, then she turned before she saluted Lefferts; she had her cover on, so it was alright. "Colonel Leffert! My compliments to whomever commands Sergeant-Major Sheutiapik's unit! She really made my day today!"

"I assume, Commander Conqueror, that you just engaged in battle most vile against a dangerous beast threatening Her Majesty's Subjects somewhere within Her Realm," Leffert stated as Amelia moaned and Arthur shook his head.

"Indeed I did! And yet again, that spoilsport Grimblehawk comes along, accuses me of 'murdering' a 'rare creature', then she has the utter GALL to try to take the carcass away after I did her team's blasted job!" Conqueror snarled.

"They will not be doing it again, Harold."

Footfalls echoed from the hallway, allowing a fireplug of a woman with the face shape and darker skin marking her as Inuit to enter. She had on a white-furred tailed hat — no doubt from some Arctic creature and not a raccoon, Amelia mused to herself — and her rank insignia bore the wreathed crown of a master warrant officer. She was middle aged with grey-shot black hair done in a bun and the darkest brown eyes either magical had ever seen on anyone. "I assume you had to give those poor fools a lesson in their own laws, Craftsmistress Sheutiapik," Leffert stated with an amused smile, which made Amelia wince as she imagined how Margaret Sheutiapik might have "delivered" said lesson to Mathilda Grimblehawk and her co-workers.

As Arthur instantly straightened himself in respect to the just-arrived witch's civilian title — the title "Craftsmistress" was seen as one of the most honoured job titles for post-NEWT students who sought to become a top expert in a specific field of study — the current commander of No. 7 Pioneer Section of "X" Commando smirked. "Telling those stalebloods in that office that they risked losing their very magic for disrespecting the Sacred Laws of Conquest forced the message through, Colonel," the native of Ikpiarjuk on Baffin Island dryly stated as her eyes twinkled, making both Arthur and Amelia wince. "To make sure of it, I sent Sergeant Aariak to the commander's home to proof it against unauthorized entrance. The full warding package, of course." As Amelia winced again — "full warding package" would make Conqueror's house in Dalmuir, a gift given to her by the town council in respect to it being her place of birth in 1912, a total magical no-go zone — the elderly wardmistress gazed in amusement at the chief law enforcement officer of the British ministry. "Director Bones, why must WE be the ones who have to remind you of these things?! Your ministry has argued for years that shipgirls are magical beings! If a sentient magical being kills another magical being, the Sacred Laws of Conquest ALWAYS applies! Surely at least your aurors should be made aware of that, not to mention Director Peasegood's people. It will save you a blizzard of unnecessary headaches in the long term." She looked at Conqueror. "You can communicate with Linienschiffskapitän Radetzky to contact my section while we're on Saint Brendan in case the Great One gives you another such victory, Commander."

" _ **YOU WILL NOT GO THERE!**_ "

Leffert shook his head before he barked out, " _ **LA REINE LE VEULT!**_ "

Without any warning, Arthur and Amelia stiffened instantly to attention, their faces melting into total shock as they felt their magic totally respond to that Norman French phrase, forcing them to pay particular attention as to what was to be announced. They weren't the only ones: The sobbing Perkins had instantly shut up, his body frozen stiff. Ditto with the small crowd of people that had been coming towards the office from nearby in the wake of Conqueror's stampede to join her sister to share in her good fortune. As blissful silence fell, Orion smirked as she crossed her arms. "Nice trick, Colonel," she said with a polite nod of thanks to the Canadian officer, who nodded in return as they shared a knowing look; the super-dreadnought was going to use this in the future once she got a proper briefing from Her Majesty about how to make use of such a power should she or her sisters ever run into agents of this particular ministry in the future. "And the Queen's Will is...?"

"The ENDING of all oversight by this ministry over the Isle of Saint Brendan and its inhabitants. That being turned over for the time being to Her Majesty's Ministry of Magical Affairs for the Dominion of Canada per the request by the leaders of the provisional government of the island because of the sheer FAILURE of this ministry to protect them, to say anything of the International Confederation of Wizards, Commander," Leffert stated as he picked up his cap and placed it on his head.

Calmly walking out of the office, the native of Halifax smirked on seeing the small chorus of pale, wide-eyed locals staring at him as if he was the Archfiend risen from Dante's Inferno. Concentrating on the dapper-dressed man with the awful sense of headgear, Leffert walked over to stare into Cornelius Fudge's eyes. "You don't wish to lose your magic, do you, Mister Fudge?" the commander of "F" Commando asked. As Fudge instantly shook his head at THAT dire threat, the Halifax native added, "Keep your people away from Saint Brendan. Since you're so worried about defences here, we can handle any issues there."

He then focused on Dolores Umbridge, who looked as if she had just swallowed a very foul-tasting potion even if she also looked mortally terrified of this fur-capped demon as her co-workers. "No hiring of mercenaries, Madame Umbridge. If they come, we're coming for you once we have them interrogated. Don't depend on Mister Riddle's delightful friends, either. We've got nice, cold cells in Quttinirpaaq all ready for them should they prove to be as stupid as they were over a decade ago." As Umbridge stiffened on hearing that threat concerning the many "fine, upstanding purebloods" that she knew still privately supported the cause of a certain dark lord who had fallen thanks to Harry Potter, Leffert shook his head. "If we don't deal with them like our friends did Fenrir Greyback last year. Sergeant-Major, let's go. We have a mission to perform."

"Yes, sir."

With that, both he and MWO Sheutiapik portkeyed out. Silence then fell for a moment before the weird "spell" that the Canadians had used finally fell away, making most of the people present spin on each other, a storm of shouted questions and accusations flying from their lips as they tried to determine what just happened to them all. Watching this from inside Arthur's office, Orion and Conqueror exchanged amused looks, then the former tapped her host's shoulder. "I think you best go re-read your Separation Act, Arthur. Might explain what that good chap just demonstrated to you all now." She then gazed on her sister. "Now, show me that dragon!" she bade as they moved to get to the elevators and get back to work.

Both shipgirls smartly walked out of there, singing off-key...

 _We don't need no education!  
_ _We don't need no thought control!  
_ _No dark sarcasm in the classroom!  
_ _Teachers, leave them kids alone!  
_ _Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!_

 _All in all, it's just another brick in the wall!  
_ _All in all, you're just another brick in the wall...!_

 _ **To Be Continued...**_


	30. Yonaga, Gangut & Counterculture

_Regarding how the "troll war" between Iowa and Gángut as depicted by Ido-sensei in his latest dōjinshi_ Thus Spoke Comrade Gángut _[which can be seen at Danbooru] went, I came up with a path of retaliation that the old dreadnought could use against the younger fast battleship._

 _As I've often done, let me bring in the fifth of the Yamato-class to start it off._

 _(Be warned, I'm using the human names I made for shipgirls for_ A Girl's Name _and_ The Seventh Shipgirl _.)_

* * *

 ** _YONAGA TEACHES GÁNGUT ABOUT COUNTERCULTURE_**

* * *

 ** _One day in Yokosuka..._**

"Galína-san."

Gángut blinked on hearing that cold voice from someone she privately saw as an adopted Great Russian, then she smiled lightly as the fifth of the Yamato-class sat down across from her in the cafeteria. "Jóiko Khirósiovna," the first of her class greeted Yonaga as the latter set down her tray of freshly-cut seafood and cloudberries jam. "You look annoyed."

"I am. You are partially the cause, my friend," Yonaga warned as she fixed the smaller dreadnought with her Arctic-level grey-eyed gaze. "It is not because I disapprove of your very amusing intellectual arguments with Abigail-san. You have every right to defend the system you helped defend during the Great Patriotic War..." A wry smile then crossed that hawkish face. "As much as she does have the right in turn to defend the system she had been constructed to defend."

Hearing that, Gángut smirked. "Da, Jóiko." She took a small draw from her pipe before shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, though. Minérva Fránklinovna is a good woman at heart. And there are some benefits to what her system is like..."

She shrugged again. "Still, your 'troll war' is getting annoying. Also, it's affecting young Himeko," Yonaga warned.

That made Gángut wince. "Továrisch Króshechnyj...!"

"Da," the large armoured carrier replied, reminding the dreadnought again yet that Russian was Yonaga's fourth language. "«Khímeko Khagémiovna, despite her length of experience and the strength of her spirit, is still a child in many ways,»" she then advised in Gángut's mother tongue. "«Seeing what she fervently believes in constantly shattered because of how far Minérva Fránklinovna is willing to go to prove her side of the argument is distracting her far too much.»"

A silver eyebrow arched. "«You sound like you have a solution, Jóiko.»"

"«Indeed I do, my friend. Have you ever heard of the late American sage Geórgij Patrikóvich Kárlin...?»"

Gángut blinked...

* * *

 ** _Later..._**

Iowa was sputtering as Gángut smirked at her. "Wh-what did you say...?"

"You heard me," the old dreadnought stated. "Your system is TOO free! It wouldn't surprise me at all if there was a channel on your entertainment networks called...!" And here, she muttered something into Iowa's ear that made the tall blonde shriek in disbelief and denial. Leaning back, Gángut grinned around her pipe as she turned to walk away, ignoring the sputtering fast battleship aft of her. "Given the way you allow people to watch such nonsense, it's NO WONDER you're having so many issues with your 'free society'! Have you no care at all for your nation's FUTURE, Minérva Fránklinovna...?"

As Iowa continued to spit out in denial over what the older battleship just told her, the four Akatsuki-class destroyers and their tomboyish "mom boat" watched this from nearby, their jaws dropped in shock...save for Hibiki, who seemed to glow with delight on seeing that her older comrade was landing some nasty psychological blows on the impudent American. Noting this from nearby, Nagato blinked before she gazed on Yonaga. "What did you do, Yoiko-san?" the secretary ship whispered.

The seventh carrier of Operation Z smirked. "I gave Galína-san some fresh ammunition to use against Abigail-san, Reiko-san," Yonaga answered. "And hopefully taught her how to keep it away from Himeko-san."

"How?"

Yonaga whispered a name into the older battleship's ears. Nagato blanched. "Isn't that too much?" she hissed.

"It is a lesson for both of them." Here, the carrier nodded towards Hibiki.

Seeing the little silver-haired destroyer beam at the sight of her "patron" dressing down Iowa like that — without hearing some of the more vulgar things Gángut was gladly hissing into the American's ear — Nagato sighed.

"It works..."

 ** _Fin..._**

* * *

Translation: **Továrisch Króshechnyj** — Comrade Tiny One

And the patronymic list:

 **Jóiko Khirósiovna** — Yoiko, daughter of Hiroshi  
 **Minérva Fránklinovna** — Minerva, daughter of Franklin  
 **Khímeko Khagémiovna** — Himeko, daughter of Hagemi  
 **Geórgij Patrikóvich** — George, son of Patrick


End file.
